


Like We Were Yesterday

by kerithwyn



Category: Fringe
Genre: Community: polybigbang, F/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia and Lincoln find Nick again. Chapters 1–5 slightly updated and revised; chapters 6–10 written for polybigbang. COMPLETE.</p><p>Chapter 11 (new): Lincoln and Nick share some private time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like We Were Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> Begins post- “Forced Perspective” but before Lincoln goes back to visit Hartford in “Making Angels.” AU for the rest of season 4.
> 
> Belated (but sincere!) thanks to samjohnsson for beta on chapters 1–5, and extra-special gratitude to wikiaddicted and elfin for their help on the back half!
> 
>   
>    
>  **Cover art by[TeaOtter](http://tumblecup.livejournal.com). Please leave comments for her [here](http://tumblecup.livejournal.com/8259.html)!**   
> 

It wasn't like Lincoln had any extra time, between trying to get himself established in Boston and simultaneously settled into his new division, but something about the Cameron James case kept nagging at him.

He read over the case file, had Astrid fill in the specifics that didn't go in the report—he'd learned already that in Fringe Division, the omitted parts contained the most pertinent details by far—and started to make notes.

The investigation went on hold as they dealt with the appearance of Peter Bishop. And then Lincoln was distracted for a few weeks, after Olivia met him at the diner and then for a morning jog and then, astonishingly, they wound up in her bed and all the weird cases in the world were the furthest thing from his mind.

But he still felt there was something important in chasing down the lead, so eventually he gathered up the files, finally dragged from the guts of Massive Dynamic's archives. And how interesting (or _creepy_ or _alarming_ ) was it that the company held thousands upon possibly millions of bits of data and Nina Sharp always seemed to know precisely what they were looking for, when Olivia asked.

He found a list, the subjects identified by their number and then name, and started skimming for the two names he knew would be there.  
 _Subject 9: Cameron James_  
 _Subject 10: Miranda Green_  
 _Subject 11: Nancy Lewis_  
 _Subject 12: Susan Lewis_  
 _Subject 13: Olivia Dunham_  
 _Subject 14: Nick Lane_

Lincoln jerked bolt upright, staring blindly down at the printout. It'd be the biggest coincidence of all possible coincidences, but Lincoln had already started to distrust that anything associated with Fringe Division was truly mere happenstance.

Because he _knew_ the name after Olivia's. He'd gone to high school with a Nick Lane. It probably wasn't the most uncommon name, but Lincoln was positive even without checking that it was the same guy. Despite everything else going on—his evolving relationship with Olivia and the mystery of Peter Bishop and the existence of shapeshifters and an alternate universe and trying to track down David Robert Jones—his subconscious had been hard at work, trying to remind him: Nick had mentioned growing up in Jacksonville.

It was the last subject Lincoln really wanted to get into with Olivia, considering the whole "experimented on as a child" topic, but after a little bit of digging confirmed that the name on the list was the same Nick Lane, he couldn't put the discussion off.

Olivia was silent as he showed her the printout and the records he'd found of Nick's life. They painted a grim picture, and Olivia's face was full of memories Lincoln wished he hadn't awakened.

"Cameron wondered if I was 'lucky' that I hadn't had any side effects," she finally said, very quietly. "I'm not sure that's the right word. Where— where is Nick now?"

"Living in New York," Lincoln told her, and nodded to the incredulous look on Olivia's face. "I know. That can't be an accident, can it? You and Nick and Cameron, all in relatively close proximity. I ran spot-checks on a few of the others and the ones I could find are in the area, too. Nancy Lewis is here in Boston, her sister Susan is in New York, Miranda Greene's in Rhode Island."

"Not a coincidence," Olivia said in a distracted, strained voice. She shuffled through the papers. "I thought I saw— here it is. The insurance policy Nick used, Cyprox. That's the common thread. That was part of the compensation for participation in the trials. The insurance is comprehensive, but only a few hospitals still honor those policies, and they're all in the northeast. We moved up here when my mother was sick, they took care of everything." She added, almost offhandedly, "Cyprox was part of Kelvin Genetics."

"Which later became Massive Dynamic," Lincoln finished, and Olivia nodded. "That's a pretty big incentive for people to stay in the vicinity."

Olivia glanced away, like she was ashamed of something. "There might be other reasons. There were...suggestions, insinuations that we were meant to be soldiers, that we would need to be ready. I ran away before the end, but...I wouldn't be surprised if the others were given post-hypnotic suggestions to reinforce the training. Including the inclination to stay in the area."

"And you _forgave_ Walter for all this?" Lincoln blurted before he'd meant to say anything at all, but the sentiment was accurate. It was easy to feel sorry for the wreck of the man Dr. Bishop was now, but he'd left a trail of horror behind him, a past that kept coming back to haunt them all. Judging by Olivia's face, she was feeling particularly haunted at the moment. "I'm sorry, that was—"

"No," Olivia said, reaching over to take his hand. "It's all right. I know how it sounds. And Cameron really was right. I was the lucky one."

Lincoln squeezed her fingers. "Can you tell me about Nick? About Jacksonville?"

Olivia's fingers tightened around his hand, but she nodded. "It's mostly a blur. I set a room on fire when I was really little, they were always trying to get me to do it again. They finally scared me into doing it again when I was seven. They had Nick on the floor with makeup like he was all bloody, and I nearly burned the school down. That's when I ran away." Olivia looked away again, biting at her lip. "We were— Nick and I were paired together for the experiments, we leaned on each other for support. We were close. And I missed him after I left but never...never went back to look for him."

"You were just a kid," Lincoln said, but Olivia shook her head.

"I could've tracked him down later, though, after the school closed. I could have asked Nina where he went, and I never did." Her eyes found his again, full of self-recrimination. "I know I'm not supposed to blame myself for not wanting to revisit childhood trauma, but this...." she gestured toward the files on the table and Nick's picture. "I can't help but think he wouldn't have ended up like that if I'd—"

"Olivia," Lincoln said, as firmly as he could, "none of that is your fault."

"I know," she said, though her eyes were still troubled. "But you said you knew him, too?"

He stared at her, helpless to give back anything but the truth. "I knew Nick in high school. We were...close."

Olivia tilted her head, her eyes intent and knowing. "Did you...did you date?"

Lincoln felt himself going right back to his awkward teenage years with the blush that he felt rising on his cheeks. "Not—not officially, not in any way we talked about or acted on, but there was definitely something there." There would have been more, maybe, if Lincoln had been more certain, if Nick hadn't been so...unpredictable. In the years since then, Lincoln had wished more than once he'd been brave enough to take a chance.

They'd met on the track team. Nick ran like he was trying to outrun something terrible; Lincoln always imagined he was running _toward_ something desired, even if he couldn't put a name to his longing.

He'd been both attracted to and disturbed by Nick's strange highs and lows. They'd spent their time like any other kids: riding bikes, reading comics, listening to music. But Lincoln remembered feeling helpless when Nick's depression threatened to crush them both beneath its weight, and equally helpless to resist when Nick's manic highs led them on "adventures."

He told Olivia all of it, creating a bridge between her childhood with Nick to his adolescence to where they were now. "This means something, doesn't it. That both of us knew him?"

"I've become a lot more suspicious of 'coincidence' since working on Fringe cases," Olivia agreed. "But maybe this really is."

They spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence, but Lincoln knew they both had the same thoughts in mind. It wasn't until much later, both of them lying awake under the weight of their memories, when Olivia spoke again.

"Come with me? To St. Jude's?"

"Of course I will," he said, and Olivia nodded against his chest, and together they both finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Agent Broyles approved the search for the other Cortexiphan subjects, piercing eyes intent while Lincoln sweated through the request. "And I believe it's important for Agent Dunham's own history," he confessed, but despite that—or perhaps because of it—Broyles gave the go-ahead.

Peter Bishop was consumed with trying to get back to his world, wherever that might be, and Walter had finally agreed to help him. Lincoln and Olivia left Astrid to watch over them both (that woman deserved a raise, seriously) and headed to New York, to the psychiatric hospital where Nick had spent most of his adult life.

They were met by a Doctor Miller: blonde, attractive, impressed by their credentials, and eager to gossip about Nick as if she'd never heard of HIPAA.

Lincoln and Olivia walked alongside her as the doctor talked, enthusiastically. "I remember Nick very well. He was already a residential patient when I arrived here, which was about five years ago now. He had a very comprehensive insurance policy. Quite old. I'd never seen one like it."

Olivia threw Lincoln a knowing look, motioning for the doctor to go on.

"Nick checked himself out about four months ago. He was here voluntarily, after all, and he'd been doing much better for the past year. Nick was an interesting person—he had a kind of brightness to him."

"Intelligent," Olivia said, like she already knew the answer.

Doctor Miller nodded. "Yes, quite, but not what I mean. He had an emotional brightness." She smiled fondly, like a teacher talking about a favorite student. "If he was happy, he would light up a room. Sad, he was like a black hole that would suck you right down with him. Hyper-emotive is the clinical term. Put simply, his affect was highly infectious."

Olivia frowned. "Was he dangerous?"

"No." The doctor sighed as if she'd taken Nick's case to heart. "No, if anything, his ideation tended toward self-contempt. Toward the suicidal. Although he did suffer from some psychosis when his delusions were florid."

Lincoln couldn't help asking, after a quick glance toward Olivia. "What sort of delusions?"

Doctor Miller waved her hand. "Typical paranoid fare. Nick was convinced he'd been recruited as a child for a series of top-secret experiments. That he was being prepared to serve as a soldier in the coming war against denizens of a parallel universe."

Olivia's mouth was pressed into a tight line and Lincoln thought it would be a really good idea to end the interview before she expressed her own distress. "Thank you, doctor, that's all very helpful. We'll see ourselves out."

Outside, Olivia let out a long, pained breath. "'Delusions,' she said. Only every word was true."

"What she was talking about, though, that sounded a lot like Nick when I knew him. The hyper-emotive part, I mean," Lincoln amended quickly.

Olivia hesitated for a long moment. "That was his ability, back then. He could project his emotions onto other people. But if he was really manifesting, we would have heard about it. The whole hospital would have been affected. Or the apartment he's at now."

"And your ability was the, the pyrokinesis?" He felt like an idiot for saying the word, but it fit.

"No, that was just a...a side effect. Like Cameron's metal attraction, when his real ability was astral projection."

There was an obvious follow-up question there, but Lincoln felt it best to let the subject lie for the moment. "We have Nick's address. Do you want to head over?"

"Yes." Olivia waited until they were in the car, then reached over to take his hand. "I don't know what he'll be like, if he'll even remember me. But thank you for doing this. It's like getting back a part of my life I'd forgotten about."

Lincoln squeezed her hand and Olivia squeezed back, smiling. "I'm pretty curious, too."

Maybe their combined anticipation made Olivia drive a little faster than usual, but they reached the apartment building without incident. The building was older but well kept, apart from the broken elevator. But when Lincoln and Olivia climbed the stairs to the right door, they discovered multiple locks had been installed, setting it apart from its neighbors.

Lincoln was absolutely unsurprised that even given the circumstances, Olivia refused to hesitate. She raised her hand and gave the door three hard, sharp knocks.

A voice rang out from inside, and Lincoln recognized it immediately. "Leave the package outside the door." It sounded like a rote response, and Lincoln had the feeling the man inside said it a lot. As if he had food deliveries, laundry, or whatever else he needed brought to his door.

"Nick Lane? It's Olivia Dunham. And Lincoln Lee," Olivia said in her clear FBI voice, although Lincoln could see her hands were shaking. "Can we—"

There was a crash from inside, and then the sound of feet pounding across the floor and the locks being pulled back in haste. The door flew open and Nick was standing there, gaping at them.

He looked...older, obviously, thin and wiry and with the scar on his face that Lincoln had seen in the hospital pictures standing out in stark relief on his face. His blond hair was cut close, along with his thin scruff of beard, but he was still—Lincoln noted with a strange sense of unease—dressing in the same dark colors he'd worn as a teenager. The same dark colors, Lincoln also realized with a jolt, that filled Olivia's closet.

And his eyes, the same remembered piercing pale blue, staring at the two of them in disbelief.

"O— Olive?" Nick said, voice high and thin with uncertainty. "You found me?"

Whatever Olivia had been planning to say, it was wiped away by the look on Nick's face. "I'm here," she said, and Lincoln saw that she was near to tears. "Nick, I—"

" _Olive,_ " Nick said again, like her name was a lifeline, and Lincoln watched in astonishment as he fell to the floor, his knees hitting the thin carpet hard, and leaned forward to press his head against Olivia's legs.

Olivia's hand flailed for a moment, then came to rest on Nick's head like a benediction. She stood there, staring down at him, until the tears spilled over and she dropped to her own knees. Olivia leaned in, her forehead resting against Nick's, while their fingers entwined like children's. Lincoln could only stand over them speechless, recognizing the moment for its significance and watchful for any movement in the hall that might disturb it.

Long moments passed before they drew back to look at each other. Nick blurted, "I never thought I'd see you—" at the same time Olivia was saying, "I'm so sorry I didn't—"

They both stopped and smiled at each other, communicating in some kind of unspoken language. The last thing Lincoln wanted to do was interrupt their reunion, but he also figured it would probably be best if they continued in private. He shifted a little to draw their attention, found himself on the receiving end of two nearly identical amused smiles, and stood back while Olivia and Nick got back to their feet. "Come in," Nick said softly, "both of you."

The apartment was furnished simply, nothing extravagant, but not cheap either. An overflowing set of bookcases was the most prominent feature. A chair in front of a computer desk was lying on its side, obviously the source of the crash before.

"Lincoln Lee," Nick said, marveling, and put his hand out. Lincoln took it, meaning to shake, and found himself pulled into an embrace. Nick was evidently much stronger than he looked. Lincoln hugged him back but Nick's face was buried against his neck and Lincoln, too aware of Olivia watching, pulled away.

"Wow, you haven't changed a bit," Nick said, not without irony, and grinned. But his eyes kept darting back to Olivia, like he was afraid she'd vanish if he blinked for too long. "But how do you know Olive, how did you find me?"

"We work together. FBI," Lincoln said, showing his badge, but Nick barely glanced at it. "We ran into, uh...."

"Nick," Olivia said softly, "There was a case. It involved Cameron James, do you remember him?"

"Yeah. From Jacksonville." Nick glanced between the two of them, trying to read their faces. "Oh. _Oh._ That kind of case. It's— it's all coming back again, isn't it?"

Olivia hesitated, then nodded. "We investigate these kinds of things. After the incident with Cameron, Lincoln suggested we follow up with the rest of the Cortexiphan subjects, to see if anyone else was having...issues."

"Issues," Nick said remotely. "I guess you would have gone to St. Jude's first, right? So you already know I have 'issues.'" He smiled wryly, then glanced around. "Hey, I'm a terrible host. Grab a seat. I don't have any coffee, but I have about a thousand kinds of tea."

He went into the kitchen and gathered glasses when Lincoln and Olivia opted for water, constantly peering over the low wall divider at Olivia and Lincoln to make sure they didn't disappear. Lincoln crossed the room and righted the computer chair, catching Nick smirking at him for his orderly tendencies just like he used to, while Olivia walked over to a rocking chair in a corner and picked something up. When she turned around she was smiling and holding up a bedraggled teddy bear. "Snuggles. I remember him."

"He's the only good memento I have of those days." Nick shook his head as he came back out of the kitchen. "This is crazy, you both being here. Like a dream."

They seated themselves, Nick sitting across from them so that he could see them both. Lincoln noted with amusement that Olivia was still absent-mindedly holding the bear. "But it's a much better kind of crazy. I know what the reports said. 'Hyper-emotive, delusional, suicidal.'" Nick grimaced. "I have good days and bad days, you know? Like everybody else. But I'm a lot more functional than I used to be." He glanced at Olivia again. "You look...perfect. You were always the strong one."

"What happened, Nick?" Olivia asked, sounding calm enough, but Lincoln could see her hands held together so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

Nick started to chew on his finger, a regular nervous habit judging by the state of his nails. "Well...you left. You ran away and never came back. And after that nothing worked for me, they tried to pair me with someone else, but it didn't work." He paused, mouth moving without forming words, until he finally muttered, " _I_ didn't work."

"Nick, I— I missed you too," Olivia said, her voice thick and sorrowful.

"But you _left._ " Nick said again, like that fact was the only constant of his world. "You left, and then the program closed, and I wasn't anybody but one weird kid with a head full of weird drugs and weird dreams."

"When I knew you," Lincoln started, and had to pause to swallow hard as Nick's gaze fell on him. "You didn't say anything about any of that, and I can guess why."

Nick half-shrugged. "I was in all kinds of therapy, and I'd already learned what not to say. I— you were my only friend, you know? I couldn't risk telling you."

"You vanished," Lincoln managed. "A year before graduation. You just disappeared and no one could tell me where you'd gone."

"I had an...episode. It'd been years since the last one, but it was bad." Nick's hand rose idly to rub at the scar too close to his eye. "That was the last straw for my parents. They packed up and moved me before anyone could find us, and had me committed for my own good." He stopped, chewing at his lip. "I really...hated them for that, for a long time, until I realized it'd been the best thing for me. When the shrinks finally got the right mixture of meds working, I was cleared for release, and I tried to make a go of things. I got my GED, tried to make it work outside. But it didn't, and after a while I turned right back around and I checked myself back into St. Jude's to stay. They— they were good to me, you know? Kept me from hurting myself and I didn't have to worry about freaking anyone out. I was practically the most normal one there. Most of the time."

"But you've been out for a couple of months now, and..." Lincoln gestured around the apartment, "seem to be doing okay?" It came out as more of a question than he'd intended.

Nick nodded. "Turns out when you're in for long-term voluntary commitment and don't have to worry about expenses, you end up with a lot of time on your hands. I read a lot. Got a couple of advanced degrees online. I have a talent for languages, so..." he shrugged. "Mostly these days I do translation work for a couple of major companies."

Olivia said something in a language Lincoln vaguely recognized as Mandarin, and Nick smirked and answered back in the same tongue. His accent, from what Lincoln could tell, was flawless. Nick switched back to English and said, "Yeah, maybe it has something to do with the Cortexiphan. I can listen to anything, even in my sleep, and just pick it up. Colloquial usage, even, if I find a native source."

"How many?" Lincoln asked, fascinated.

"Uh. About 30 or so?" Nick shrugged again, looking self-conscious. "Maybe 40. I've kinda been messing around with African languages lately, just for fun."

"That's just— _cool,_ " Lincoln said, and Nick grinned and ducked his head. "But, uh..." he cleared his throat, trying to get in the right mindset. " _tlhIngan Hol Dajatlh'a'_?" he managed, and coughed.

" _HIja'. loQ vIjatlhlaH,_ " Nick replied smoothly, straight-faced. Then he paused and added, " _qaleghqa'mo' jIQuch. qamuSHa'._ "

"Sorry, you've exceeded my nerd vocabulary. What was that...?"

Nick waved a hand. "Never mind."

Lincoln glanced over at Olivia, who was staring at the two of them like— well, like they were speaking in tongues. "I'd explain, but, uh, you'd probably want to put in a request for a new partner on the grounds that yours is too geeky to live."

Olivia smiled wryly. "I think I got the gist. Besides, you have other talents."

Nick's eyebrows drew together in puzzlement, and then his eyes widened. "But wait, you two, you're _together._ Not just for work. That's— that's like fate, right? The only two people I ever loved, sitting right here in front of me, and you're—"

Lincoln found himself standing and he took an involuntary step forward, then another, caught in Nick's magnetic tide. It had always been like that, Nick's emotions so raw and on the surface that Lincoln couldn't help but be swept up as well.

"Nick," Olivia said sharply, and it was like a spell breaking. Lincoln blinked, glancing between them, trying to understand. He'd been— he'd just been walking toward Nick to hug him or something—

Olivia was staring at Nick, her eyes intent. "That was a little more than a passive affect."

Nick covered his mouth with his hands and closed his eyes, seeming to concentrate. Lincoln felt something like a cloud in his mind lifting, a fog he hadn't even been aware of. "Shit," Nick said, his voice muffled behind his fingers. "Wow, sorry. That hasn't happened in a long time."

"Wait, that was your ability?" Lincoln asked. "I thought—"

"He's starting to manifest again," Olivia said, her voice heavy. "I'm immune, just like Nick was immune when I set the room on fire."

"Yeah, and a good thing _that_ was," Nick snapped, his hands dropping to his sides. "They provoked you into a reaction and I could've been burned alive. I wonder if that was factored into the risk assessment, or if I would've just been collateral damage?"

Olivia reeled as if slapped, and Nick looked horrified at his own words. "Olive, I'm sorry, I'm not angry at you."

"Cameron's ability seemed pretty active too," Lincoln said slowly. "Why is this happening now?"

Olivia shook her head slowly. "We should consult with Walter."

Nick sat bolt upright. "Walter Bishop? You're _working_ with him? So now that my powers are back, you're gonna haul me off to a lab again?" Lincoln could feel the emotional surge, identifiably distinct from himself this time, a rising crest of fear. "I won't be a lab rat again, I'll run before—"

"Nick!" Olivia's voice was as sharp as a whip's crack, and she crossed the room to sit at Nick's side and take his hands. "I won't let that happen. I promise. No one's taking you anywhere."

He stared at her, face still frozen in panic, until something in their shared connection broke his paralysis. To Lincoln's surprise, Nick looked over to him for confirmation.

Lincoln hesitated, then nodded, feeling compelled to add, "There has to be a way to, uh, stop or control your ability, right?"

"I _can_ control it," Nick shot back, and then slumped back on the couch. "Except I just proved I can't." He stared down at Olivia's hands, entwined with his. "It was always better when you were there, remember, Olive? But I guess that's not a permanent solution."

Lincoln saw Olivia's fingers rub over Nick's wrists, as if she was reluctant to agree. But her voice was steady. "We'll figure things out together." She glanced over at Lincoln. "I'll call Broyles and let him know where we are."

Olivia stepped out into the hall to make the call, and Lincoln knew why. Nick's situation was precarious and an argument with Broyles was imminent; there was no point letting him overhear it.

In the meantime, Lincoln had other questions. "Nick, you don't go out? When we knocked, it sounded like you have all your deliveries left at the door."

Nick shrugged. "I'm not a complete shut-in. I go for walks when it's quiet. I guess...I guess with my history, it's just easier not to be around people."

"That's another reason to let us help you," Lincoln offered by way of argument, and Nick sighed.

"I know you're right. You were always trying to help me. Guess that hasn't changed." Nick glanced at him briefly, then looked down. "I never got to tell you what you meant to me. I hated leaving things like that, but afterward I figured it was best you didn't know what had happened. Still. I don't think I would have made it even that long in school, if it hadn't been for you." Nick paused and raised his eyes, looking at Lincoln for a long moment. "I wish I'd kissed you, back then."

It was almost, _almost_ too tempting to cross the room to him, despite Olivia, despite everything. Lincoln held his ground, but he smiled and wondered if Nick's empathy would pick up on what he couldn't say. "Yeah. Me too."

Nick smiled wryly at him. "I still can't believe you and Olivia are together. I mean, that's awesome."

"You know, I think so too," Lincoln said solemnly, and they were both still laughing about that when Olivia came back in.

"Our boss, Agent Broyles, would like you to visit the Massive Dynamic facility for evaluation. I'll go with you," Olivia said quickly. "Nina Sharp, the Executive Director, knows all about the trials."

Nick snorted. "Yeah, I bet. I know Massive Dynamic took over from Kelvin Genetics, I did the research. Sharp was in on it from the beginning, with Bishop and Bell. Why should I trust her?"

"Because I do," Olivia said evenly. "Nina raised me and Rachel after our mother died. She never tried to make me use my ability, if that's what you're concerned about." She hesitated for a long moment. "Broyles...didn't want me to leave you here, if your abilities are manifesting. But I told him I didn't think you posed any significant risk to the people around you."

There was enough emphasis on the last part to tell Lincoln that Olivia had put herself in a delicate situation, trading on her experience and unique position to bargain for Nick's continued freedom.

"This is one of those things where it sounds like I have a choice, but I really don't," Nick said slowly.

"You do," Olivia said. "No one's going to come after you here, as long as your abilities aren't affecting anyone else. Or you could disappear," she offered, offhandedly. "That's what Cameron did. He seemed pretty unhappy, though. And if his powers flare up, we'll be right back where we started." Her professional manner dropped away again as she watched Nick's face. "But I— I don't want you to disappear."

Nick was silent for a long moment. "I'll go. But only if you're both there."

"Wouldn't suggest otherwise." Olivia smiled, and Lincoln nodded in confirmation. "I'll set things up with Nina and explain the situation. We'll go in the morning, if that's all right."

"Better to get it over with," Nick said morosely, and Lincoln really hated seeing the unhappiness on his face.

"Hey, Nick," he said softly. "You remember the time we stole the whole football team's clothes out of their lockers?"

Nick glanced at him, startled, and then his face opened into that grin that still pulled at every string in Lincoln's heart. At least, the ones that weren't tied up with Olivia.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about old times (mostly high school shenanigans, since neither Nick nor Olivia seemed to want to discuss their shared experiences), laughing over takeout, before Lincoln and Olivia said good night to find their hotel.

Outside of Nick's apartment building, Lincoln looked up toward his window. "You think he'll be there in the morning?"

Olivia nodded with no hesitation whatsoever. "He'll be there."

They were still renting two rooms, as per FBI protocol. Lincoln felt bad about wasting taxpayer money, but not bad enough to stay in his own room when Olivia was waiting for him in hers. She'd already stripped down to a plain long t-shirt, though she'd refrained from raiding the mini-bar. Lincoln wouldn't have blamed her, really. Her smile as she closed the door behind him was weary, but sincere. "Quite a day."

"Productive, though," Lincoln said. "Nick looked good, don't you think?"

"Yeah. You didn't ask," Olivia said abruptly. "What my ability was."

"I figured you didn't want to talk about it."

"Still true." Olivia offered him a lopsided smile. "I'd nearly forgotten, but then Peter said—do you remember, in my apartment, before you went over to the other side? He said to me, 'What do you even need Walter's device for, when you can just cross back and forth any time by yourself.' I've been thinking about that, and I finally understood what he was talking about."

Lincoln's thoughts about the botched mission on the other side mostly centered around how lucky he and Peter were that they hadn't been shot out of hand. A couple of hours locked in a storage closet hadn't been that bad, considering the probable alternatives. "But he was talking about his Olivia, the one from his timeline, right?"

"Right, but we've already determined that things in his timeline and our world happened very similarly. I—" she took a long breath. "When I was a kid I could see objects that were from the other side, they had this kind of...glimmer. And when I was really scared, I could cross over to the other universe. I remember drawing pictures of their blimps in my notebook. That's what Walter was trying to get me to do, when I set fire to the room."

"That's...amazing," Lincoln said, the words feeling entirely inadequate. "Even better than a pair of ruby slippers."

"Yeah, I just wish I'd remembered how to do it when they kidnapped me," Olivia said wryly. "But there hasn't been anything, not since I was a kid. The thing is...." she started to pace, her hands twisting. "This afternoon, with Nick, I think it was me. I think it was my being in proximity with Nick, our combined emotional states, that's why his ability activated. If we hadn't gone, he might not have ever manifested again."

"Olivia, you can't know that for sure."

"But I feel it." She laughed shortly, no amusement in it at all. "And Walter was always telling us that our abilities were based on our emotions. This— this means I'm responsible for Nick, from now on. Because I did this to him again."

"Not alone, you didn't," Lincoln said as firmly as he could, as Olivia looked at him with surprise. "If you— if you triggered him somehow and that makes you responsible, that makes me equally responsible, for starting the investigation that brought us to him. You could even say it's all my fault. Go on, I don't mind."

Olivia looked torn between laughter and denial, clearly wrestling with her usual insistence on taking the weight of the world on her own shoulders. "Lincoln—"

"You're not in this alone," he told her, wanting her to believe it more than anything. "I want you to know that. I want you to know—"

Her lips parted slightly, and he knew she'd heard what he hadn't said. "Lincoln," she said again, softly, drawing close. "Tell me."

This nondescript hotel room is the last place he would have chosen, but she'd asked and he never could keep any kind of secret. "You'll say it's too soon, and you don't have to— I love you, Olivia. I won't leave you alone with this. Or anything. If— if you let me."

Her hair swung to cover her face as she ducked her head and for a moment Lincoln was terribly, terribly afraid that he'd blown it, lost his new girlfriend and his new career all in one moment. But then Olivia was smiling at him, biting her lip but smiling, and everything was going to be all right. She was obviously looking for words but Lincoln kissed her instead, because he could, because she let him.

* * *

Nick was ready to go when Lincoln and Olivia came to collect him in the morning. "I thought about it a lot, last night," he said, looking nervous but determined. "I think this will be better for me. If I can learn to control my ability, I can stop taking all those drugs. And believe me, I'll be happy to get rid of all those side effects." His nose wrinkled and Lincoln couldn't suppress an involuntary chuckle.

The Cortexiphan trials had ended years ago, but to no one's surprise Massive Dynamic still had protocols in place, a proposed series of trials for the training and development of psychic abilities. When Olivia and Lincoln and Nick met with Nina Sharp, she suggested that those techniques might help Nick rein in his ability.

After being shown around the facility, and with Olivia's and Lincoln's assurances that they'd check in on him by phone every day, Nick agreed to give the system a try. Nina stepped away to give them a moment, before Lincoln and Olivia left to return to Boston.

"Listen, whatever happens here, it's— it's just so good to see you. Both of you." Nick looked between them, like he was trying to memorize their faces. He stepped forward suddenly, catching them both in an embrace, and it was impossible to do anything but hug him back.

It didn't strike Lincoln at all strange until later, how much he hadn't wanted to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Bizarre Love Triangle" by New Order. Draw your own conclusion.
> 
> L: Do you speak Klingon?  
> N: Yes, I speak a little. ... I'm glad to see you again. I love you.  
> \-- [translation from omniglot.com](http://www.omniglot.com/language/phrases/klingon.php)
> 
>  
> 
> Doctor Miller's appearance nearly verbatim from "Bad Dreams."
> 
> Three inspirations for this fic:
> 
> 1) Ray on tumblr asked:"exactly how much do i have to pay you for you to write me some olivia/nick/lincoln as in, happy threesome living together." Didn't quite get there with this chapter.
> 
> 2) And then in a later conversation (as much as tumblr allows conversation), the suggestion for David Call as a season 5 regular (WE CAN DREAM OKAY) made me speculate, "that's a whole AU. Olivia, Lincoln, and Nick, the new Fringe Division investigative team." Which...clearly didn't happen in this chapter either.
> 
> 3) This story also owes a nod to Alice Starling's "[Through the Black Amnesias of Heaven](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7783693/1/Through_the_Black_Amnesias_of_Heaven)", which postulated that Lincoln knew Nick in high school.


	2. Feeling Like I Never Should

Lincoln woke suddenly.

That in itself wasn't necessarily unusual; his sleeping patterns were erratic at best. But this time he'd awoken to a sound next to him, something anomalous poking his subconscious.

Beside him Olivia tossed her head, which was strange. She had just as much trouble falling asleep as he did, but once she'd dropped off, Olivia usually slept as quiet and still as a mouse. Lincoln waited for a moment, ready to wake her if it looked like she was having a nightmare. He was just about to decide that he might as well try to get more rest when Olivia's mouth opened slightly and she _moaned._

In the next half-second, Lincoln thought all at once: _oh, that's what woke me._ And _no wonder that got my attention._ And _no reason to wake her if she's having a good time._ And _good lord, that's incredibly sexy._

He watched, fascinated, as Olivia's breathing started to speed up and she moaned again. The sound had a predictable effect on his own anatomy, but he was too mesmerized to do anything more than watch her. Her head rolled back and forth on the pillow, face reflecting her pleasure, until she trembled in a way he recognized and opened her eyes. "Oh!"

"Hey there," Lincoln said, smiling. 

Olivia blinked at him, clearly trying to get her bearings. "H- hey."

"You know," Lincoln said, conversationally, "I didn't actually have 'watching my girlfriend have a wet dream' on my list of interesting things to do in bed, but clearly I should have."

"You have a list?" Olivia quirked her mouth at him. "You haven't shared." She shifted a little, biting at her lip. "But Lincoln, that wasn't exactly...well, it was. But it wasn't _my_ dream."

Lincoln felt that fine prickle of apprehension across his neck, the same one he got whenever their cases started to get...weird. Which they always did, so the feeling was becoming a familiar one. He'd never wanted to experience that sensation in his girlfriend's bed. But Olivia looked bemused rather than alarmed, so there probably wasn't any cause for real concern. Yet. "Not yours?"

Olivia shook her head, her eyes far away. "Nick was...thinking about us. Both of us. His dream was, uh, detailed."

"You...felt his dream?" As usual, Lincoln felt like he was three steps behind. Nick was still at the Massive Dynamic facility, learning to focus and refine his abilities. "From New York? Is everyone in between there and Boston waking up with sticky underwear and a vaguely molested feeling?"

Olivia snickered, her hand emerging from under the covers to find his fingers and squeeze. "No, no. We had a...psychic link, a connection, when we were kids. I guess seeing him again kicked it into high sensitivity."

"A psychic link! Okay, that makes everything clear." He rolled his eyes at her. "So...basically, my girlfriend just had a psychic orgasm with another man."

Olivia looked like she was trying to seem abashed and not crack up at the same time. "Yeah."

Lincoln let out a sigh. "When you said the kind of cases we work with can get overwhelming...I had no idea it would extend this far." Olivia was starting to honestly look worried now, and Lincoln smiled at her. "I'm still not freaked out."

Olivia breathed out, the exhalation half laughter and half relief. "There are ways to dampen the link, it's just been a long time since I had to work on them."

"So he was dreaming— uh. About us both?"

"Uh huh." Olivia ducked her head a little, but Lincoln could see her smiling. "Pretty graphically."

"Wow." There was definitely more to consider on that subject, but not at the moment. "One more question. Can he feel what you're feeling?"

Olivia shook her head. "Only when we're close. He's the projective empath, not me."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me not to realize," Lincoln said with teasing mockery. "But you know I can't let you go back to sleep after that."

"No?"

"At least, not right away." He leaned closer. "Maybe there's no psychic link involved, but if you're going to be having sex dreams, I'd like to be involved."

"Well, technically—" Olivia said, smirking.

"Involved in a way I'm _aware_ of," Lincoln amended, and ducked his head under the covers and started sliding down the bed. "At least, I can send you back to sleep with me on your mind." His last words were muffled against her skin, but judging by the way she shifted to accommodate him, Lincoln was pretty sure Olivia had caught the gist.


	3. A Life That I Can't Leave Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From pre-“Making Angels” through “Welcome to Westfield.” 
> 
> Some dialogue from "Over There, part 1."

From all the reports, Nick was a quick study. Lincoln and Olivia called him, daily if not more often, while he was undergoing the Massive Dynamic training. The search was on in force now for the rest of the Cortexiphan subjects, and a few others had been coaxed into the program already. "It's a regular monkey house over here," Nick told Lincoln over the phone. "Except with flinging fireballs and telekinetic spitballs instead of poop."

"Well, as long as you're having fun," Lincoln said dryly, and smiled to Nick's clear raspberry over the line.

Once he'd attained the required level of mastery—and how _that_ was determined Lincoln had no idea, unless someone was cribbing the manual on how to train empaths out of old _X-Men_ comics—Nick took the bus up to Boston, eager to see where Olivia and Lincoln worked.

The lab was quiet when he came by, in the middle of a decent respite between cases. Astrid was right there with a welcoming smile and a kind word for Nick, before she went to pry Walter out of his hiding space.

"She's lovely," Nick said softly, looking after her, and Lincoln had the feeling he was talking about more than Astrid's face. He paused, staring into another part of the room. "Uh. Can I pet the cow? Do I want to know why you have a cow?"

"You probably don't," Lincoln said, and Nick nodded solemnly as he was introduced to Gene.

Astrid reappeared with Walter in tow, urging him along as he dragged his feet, seemingly afraid to look up and see their visitor. 

"Walter, you remember Nick Lane," Olivia prompted gently, and Walter swallowed hard and nodded before looking up.

"I have something I need to say to both of you. What I did to you...was inexcusable...barbaric. The collateral damage has been extensive. But we had noble goals. We believed that our world needed guardians, protectors, that you children would be those protectors. We fostered your talents because we foresaw that the day would come when both universes would be in jeopardy. I'm so sorry." Walter head was bowed again, refusing to look at either of them. "If you aren't going kill me...I think I'll go and have a bit of a cry."

Lincoln watched Nick's expressions run through a gamut of emotion at Walter's speech: anger, suspicion, disbelief, reluctant compassion. From the look on her face, it was the first time Walter had ever offered Olivia an apology, too.

"He's not the same guy I remember," Nick said softly as Walter trudged back to his makeshift bedroom. "He— he lives here? In the lab?"

"He suffered a breakdown, a few years after the school closed," Olivia told him. "Walter was in an institution for nearly twenty years, before we pulled him out to help with Fringe cases."

Nick bit at his lip. "I should be... I dunno. That sounds like poetic justice, but it's just sad." He glanced around. "You guys didn't tell me you worked in a mad scientist's laboratory, though I guess that's accurate for more than one reason." 

"More 'mad' than 'science' some days," Lincoln said. "But it's...interesting work, at least."

Olivia laughed suddenly. "I was shocked that you came back after the thing with 'Gus,' honestly."

"Gus?" Nick asked while Lincoln and Olivia looked at each other and laughed. "Uh— secret FBI stuff, I guess."

Lincoln had actually been on the verge of explaining, but if the words "sentient fungus" never had to come out of his mouth again that was all right by him. And besides, Nick was a civilian and not actually privy to the mysteries of Fringe Division.

They gave Nick a cursory tour of the lab, complete with Peter waving a distracted "hello" as he bent over the designs for the machine. Lincoln caught Olivia giving Nick an intense glance as he looked at Peter, but neither of them had any unusual reaction as far as far as he could tell.

Once they were out of Peter's earshot, Olivia let out a long breath. "I was curious to see if Nick would sense anything _different_ about Peter."

Nick glanced at her. "No, why? He's really concentrating on something right now, a big project that's important to him, that's all I could tell."

She shook her head, smiling. "He is, and it's nothing." But Lincoln had caught the idea: that glimmer Olivia had mentioned seeing as a kid, the sign of things (and presumably people) from another universe. If Nick had seen it, that might've added weight to Peter's story—not that any of them truly doubted him anymore. But maybe that ability wasn't in Nick's repertoire of powers.

They walked across the campus paths for a few moments in silence before Nick spoke up again. "Olive, what about your abilities?" 

Olivia shrugged. "Nothing for a long time. I don't know why they haven't come back, since yours have."

"Huh." Nick cocked his head at her. "You mostly did stuff when you were upset. Maybe it's not a bad thing that hasn't happened."

"Nick, I..." Olivia had on her most contrite expression. "I'm afraid I'm the one who set your powers off again."

Nick looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Dr. Fayette said that might be true."

She stared at him. "You're not angry at me?"

"At _you_? Why would I— no, never," Nick said earnestly. "It might've happened sooner or later, and now I know how to deal with it, right? And besides, I'm— I'm so glad you found me, you don't know."

But Lincoln thought he did, considering the look of adoration on Nick's face, and Olivia hadn't missed it either.

"I stayed in New York because that's where St. Jude's is, I didn't want to get too far away in— in case I needed to go back. But now...." Nick looked at them, a new sense of freedom evident on his face. "I don't need to worry about that. So I could go anywhere. And I—" he stopped, looking suddenly embarrassed.

"You want to be where we are," Olivia said softly.

"Yeah. I don't want to intrude, I just...want to be near you."

"Speaking of intruding," Lincoln said without thinking, and then bit his tongue.

Nick groaned, covering his face with his hands, but not enough to hide the unmistakable blush. "Oh, God. I— I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't be projecting like that anymore, and Olive can block me out if I do."

He didn't offer an apology for what he'd been dreaming, and Lincoln didn't expect him to. Maybe didn't want him to, either.

* * *

Lincoln had gone to Hartford for his goddaughter's birthday and to catch up with his friends there. Olivia was glad for him, pleased that he wasn't letting those connections go.

And she was feeling good these days, really good. The migraines had stopped, most likely as a result the experimental meds Nina provided, as well as those anomalous dreams about Peter. But it hadn't escaped Olivia's notice that the relief also coincided with Nick's reentry into her life, as if that mislaid part of her past had filled in something that was missing.

While Lincoln was out of town, Olivia and Peter worked the disturbing case of a man who thought he could "save" people from difficult fates by killing them first. The case would have had them at a standstill if not for the presence of the alternate Astrid, who'd come over to this side on her own initiative after her father's death, seeking the comfort of her double. Olivia's own alternate had come after her, made herself more-or-less useful, and even had Walter cozying up to her by the time they left. Olivia's feelings about her alternate were still mixed at best, and considering the still-tentative truce between the two worlds, she didn't find any particularly compelling reason to make an effort.

Besides, she had more engaging company these days. With a brief gap in cases, there was finally time to take Nick to the Federal Building to meet Agent Broyles. En route, Nick told her about the apartment he'd found, the hassles of moving his stuff, and his new project translating a computer game from a popular Chinese franchise. "So you're keeping busy," Olivia noted, and Nick grinned. 

"Yeah. I know you and Lincoln have real work to do."

They were walking through the hall at the Federal Building when Nick stopped short. "Olivia, wait." He looked around, frowning. "Something feels weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

Nick waved his hands, obviously trying to frame an answer that would make sense. "Even when I'm not trying, I _feel_ the people around me, kind of a low-level hum." He glanced around, frowning. "But I just felt something else. Almost...mechanical? Like a person, but not?" He laughed nervously. "Okay, that sounds crazy."

Olivia felt a chill go through her at his words. "Maybe not. Can you find it? The person who feels like that?"

Nick peered at her, face quizzical, but he looked around again. "Yeah, I think...this way." They backtracked down the hall, to the window of a large room where a team of analysts was working at a number of computer stations. "In here."

"Okay." There was a door on the far wall. "Nick, we're going to walk through that room, and I need you to find whoever it is. But it's important that you don't point him or her out, all right? Don't indicate that person in any way. Wait until we're out of the room before you tell me."

"Oooh. Spy stuff. Okay, I can do that." Nick grinned. "Then you'll tell me what this is about?"

Olivia nodded. "Promise." She opened the door, speaking in a low guide's voice. "This is our analyst's room. We'll just walk through quickly and try not disturb them." She flashed a quick smile to the room and ushered Nick along. They walked through the center of the room at a brisk pace until Olivia pretended to stumble slightly, taking a moment to recover and giving Nick time to look around the room. She glanced around with an embarrassed look, then waved Nick through the rest of the room and out.

"Get anything?" she asked once they were on the other side of the door. 

"Yeah. The woman in the far corner, in the green blouse? She felt wrong." Nick stared at her, face starting to reflect his unease. "What _is_ it?"

Olivia glanced back into the room, noting the woman's station and appearance. "Come with me. We need to see Broyles."

She led him around and back to the original hallway, then the short distance to Broyles' office. His assistant Janine nodded to her. "Go ahead, he's waiting for you."

Olivia shot Nick a brief smile and opened the door. "Sir, I've brought Nick Lane to meet you. But we have something else we need to deal with right now."

Broyles looked up from his computer and raked his eyes over the two of them."What's that?" 

"I think there's a shapeshifter in the building." Beside her, Olivia caught a glimpse of Nick's face, startled and confused. "Nick sensed her. His empathy picked up on the difference between her emotions and those of normal people."

"Mr. Lane. Is this true?"

Nick glanced at Olivia before he answered. "Uh, yessir. I don't know what a 'shapeshifter' is but she definitely didn't feel like everyone else."

Broyles stared at him for a long moment. "Nina Sharp informed me that your abilities were both accurate and under your control. Is that correct?"

Nick stood up a little straighter. "I know what I felt. She wasn't— she's not human. How is that possible?"

"Dunham will fill you in." That was authorization for Olivia to give Nick the full rundown, and she nodded in acknowledgement as Broyles turned his attention back to her. "Who is this person?"

"One of the analysts. I don't know her name, but she's at her desk now. We didn't tip her off."

"All right." Broyles stood, motioning for his assistant. When she stepped inside, he said, "I need a surveillance team and employee records on a subject Agent Dunham will identify for you. Need-to-know only, which for the moment means you, me, and Agent Dunham. The subject is not to be alerted in any way. I'll brief the surveillance team once they're assembled." Janine nodded, returning to her desk, and Broyles glanced back at them both. "Good work. Mr. Lane, you might just have given us a lead on one of our most pressing concerns."

"You're, uh, welcome. Glad to help." Nick swallowed nervously and followed Olivia out as she headed toward Janine's desk.

Olivia gave him a smile she hoped was reassuring. "Let me get this squared away, then I'll explain everything." He nodded and stood by patiently, more patiently than she probably would have, while Janine accessed the internal building cameras and she pointed out the suspect. "Her. We need her complete record, and a team to tell us where she goes, who she talks to, everything."

"Diane Kelly. You got it," Janine said, unflappable as always. "I'll cc you on everything, eyes only."

"Thanks, Janine." Olivia turned to look at Nick and took a deep breath. "Okay, there's a conference room close by, we can talk there."

Nick followed her, silent until they'd reached the room and Olivia closed the door. "So...shapeshifters? Is this a Cortexiphan thing?"

"It'd be easier if it was," Olivia said, and waved for him to sit. "First off, you need to know that they're not from around here."

She went on to explain about the invaders from an alternate universe, and watched as Nick's eyes got wider and wider.

"Wow," he said finally. "So it's really true, everything they told us. Another world like this one, only not. Another you, another Lincoln. And—another me?" He bit his lip. "Do you know?"

"It's likely there would be," Olivia said, picking her words carefully. "There were no Cortexiphan trials there, so if your double and mine met, it would only have been at the daycare. But even that might have been different there."

"Oh." Nick chewed on his lip for a moment, then glanced up at her, smiling. "Then I'm glad we're in this world."

"Me too." Olivia smiled back. "But Nick, seriously, what you did out there? That was incredibly valuable. We haven't been able to find anything out about the shapeshifters here. If we can follow 'Diane,' learn who she's reporting to, that'll make a huge difference."

"That's...kind of what we were made for, right? We were supposed to be soldiers against the other side, weapons." The sudden sadness on his face was heartbreaking. "Is that what we are?"

Olivia sat down in the chair next to his and took his hands. "It's not all we are. Things got off to a rocky start between the two universes, but I don't think it has to be a war. We can fight for that, Nick."

Nick took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm in for that, then. Whatever I can do to help." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers, then immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I'll...go sit in the waiting room, you probably have stuff you need to do." He got up and walked out, moving swiftly.

Olivia sat and stared at her hands for a long time.

* * *

With a lead on the shapeshifters, and Walter and Peter making progress on the machine Peter thought might send him back to his world, it finally seemed that they were finally moving forward on Fringe Division's most immediate issues. 

Naturally that meant they were interrupted by another case, beginning with a crashed plane and developing into several truly terrifying hours as Olivia and Walter and Peter were trapped in a town called Westfield with all of reality disintegrating around them. The people of the town were mutating and going insane, being forcibly merged with their alternate universe counterparts, most likely a result of David Robert Jones' extraction of the amphilicite at the quarry. They managed to find a safe spot for the survivors while the town collapsed around them—ending the event, but leaving them with a host of other questions.

It was with an enormous amount of gratitude that Olivia emerged from the cell-dead zone to find a number of messages on her phone, mostly from Lincoln saying that he was back in Boston. Hearing Peter talk about his Olivia reminded her how thankful she was for the life she was living now, and she immediately called to ask Lincoln if he'd meet her at her place for dinner when she got back into town.

She'd just paid off the delivery guy and gotten comfortable when there was a knock on the door. Olivia opened it with a smile and greeted Lincoln with a kiss, which he returned with enthusiasm. "Wow, hey there."

"Come on in," she said, stepping back, unable to keep from smiling. 

Lincoln stepped inside, turning to hang up his coat. "Peter told me a little bit about what happened. Sounds terrifying."

"A little more like being trapped in a Stephen King novel than I would have preferred," Olivia agreed. "But it's over now. How was your trip?"

"Really good. The kids are doing great, and—" he paused, sniffing. "What smells so amazing?"

"Peter mentioned this place called Damiano's, I thought I'd give it a try." She hesitated a second, then said, "I ordered a lot, I was thinking of asking Nick over too...?"

"Fine by me. Although I'm hoping to see a lot more of you by myself, later," Lincoln said with a sly look, and Olivia leaned against him and laughed with relief and with contentment.

And more than that. "Lincoln, I— being trapped in that town with everything imploding around us made me remember that I hadn't told John what I needed to say before it was almost too late. I don't want to make the same mistake again." She drew back to look at him, into his earnest blue eyes. "I love you."

Dinner was delayed, and they never did get around to calling Nick.

* * *

They'd had plans to show Nick around Boston when Lincoln returned from his trip, but Olivia was up to her neck in paperwork and follow-ups on the Westfield case. With so many witnesses to such bizarre events, the Bureau was working overtime to contain the situation. Lincoln was willing (if not eager) to pitch in, but since he hadn't been involved in the case, he had a legitimate exemption—and Olivia encouraged him to take it, suggesting that Lincoln and Nick have a boys' day out.

"Happy to, if you never refer to it like that again," Lincoln shot back. "That's 'manly bonding time' to you," he said, and escaped while Olivia snickered at his retreating back.

He invited Nick over to his apartment, which was at least half an excuse to straighten up his nearly abandoned rooms. It was still far too soon to talk to Olivia about moving in together, but at least a small part of him regretted the wasted rent. He'd thought about inviting Nick to move in, but the space really was too small for two people who weren't intimate.

Nick arrived early, as if he'd been waiting by the phone for Lincoln's call—which wasn't true, Lincoln knew, from what Olivia had said about Nick's own work. But this was also their first chance to catch up with each others' lives, and Lincoln couldn't help feeling eager about that too.

"So Olivia mentioned you were visiting your goddaughter." Nick gave him a look full of bafflement, as if the thought of Lincoln with a goddaughter was too bizarre to contemplate. "I missed a lot, I guess. Tell me about her?"

Talking about Amy Danzig meant talking about Jonathan and Jules and Robert, but Lincoln did his best to keep it light. He'd known rationally that thinking about Robert would become easier over time, but it hadn't really hit home until he found himself telling Nick about Robert's more ridiculous habits, and laughing. But there was still no solace in the cold facts of his death.

Nick was horrified and sympathetic, and then thoughtful. 

"So this thing with the shapeshifters, it's personal to you."

"Very." Nick nodded solemnly as Lincoln continued, "Olivia told me about what you did at the Federal Building. Broyles wants to deputize you. Give you a consultant's badge."

"He wants me to be your bloodhound." Nick's eyes were bright, knowing. "He wants me to sniff out your—our—shapeshifter problem."

"More or less, if you're game." He hadn't missed that "our." "Nick, it'd— really mean a lot to me if we could find these people."

"Anything I can do." The look Nick gave him was so open, so full of sincerity and gratefulness at being needed, that Lincoln had to glance away.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject entirely. "Hey, I noticed a chess board in your apartment in New York. You play?"

Nick nodded with no modesty whatsoever. "Yeah. I'm pretty good, too. I can beat pretty much all the online computer opponents."

Lincoln grinned. "I'm not terrible myself. You want to...?"

"That'd be awesome. But...outside, maybe?"

They ended up at a nearby park, at one of the painted stone chessboards with Lincoln's second-best set of chessmen. Lincoln noted with amusement that they were the youngest men there (it was all men, hunched in arthritic pairs over the neighboring tables), but it was a gorgeous day and Nick still seemed pleased about being outside. Nick won the first game and the second, though Lincoln thought he'd given a fair account of himself and gained a better sense of Nick's strategies for next time.

They walked through the park, swerving to buy hot dogs of dubious provenance from a vendor. "Listen, Linc," Nick started, and Lincoln realized with a small shock that it'd been years since anyone had called him by a nickname. Since...since high school, in fact. "I know I've said it a bunch of times, but— thank you again, for finding me. Olivia said that was all your doing, so... I'm just grateful. For all this," he said, spreading his arms out, nearly hitting Lincoln with a mustard-smeared hand.

"If that hot dog repeats on you, you're not going to be so grateful," Lincoln said, deflecting for all he was worth, because otherwise he was going to grab Nick's hand and clean it off. Possibly with his tongue, and what the _hell_ was that about? He'd wonder if Nick was influencing his emotions again, except everyone swore his abilities were controlled. 

Nick threw him a sidewise glance, smiling a little. "I'm happy to risk it." He opened his mouth again, then shook his head and started wiping his hands with the rapidly disintegrating tissues they'd gotten from the cart. "There a water fountain or something around here...?"

It was, Lincoln decided as they cleaned themselves off, just a holdover reaction from high school, all those unresolved feelings about Nick reawakened by his reappearance in Lincoln's life. But as adults they could find a new balance for their new relationship.

Based, of course, on all their old commonalities. "Have you seen all the Marvel movies that've come out recently? And the _Batman_ films?" Lincoln paused for a second, horrified. "Oh, my God, please tell me you've seen the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy."

Nick rolled his eyes. "St. Jude's wasn't a medieval prison. We had real tvs and DVD players."

"Yeah, but not blu-ray, I bet. And I've got the boxed set."

"Extended versions?"

Lincoln threw him a hurt look. "What kind of nerd do you take me for? Of course."

With over eleven hours of footage— _plus_ several more hours of special features, never mind the commentary versions—they had enough to keep them watching long past dinner, until neither of them could focus on the screen any more. "Pick it up next time?" Lincoln asked, and Nick grinned in happy agreement. Geeking out in person, Lincoln thought, was so much better than geeking out over the phone. Shared experience, and all that.

It was just...good to have a friend who shared his interests again. Robert hadn't been much into genre stuff, and while Olivia was perfectly willing to watch anything with him, Lincoln knew she preferred old-school mysteries and smart horror films. But Nick was into the same stuff he was, total nerd culture immersion and everything. 

Anything else he might or might not be feeling for Nick paled in comparison to that.


	4. Every Time I Think of You

Sometime during the last month, in the middle of the Massive Dynamic training and the move to Boston and everything else, Nick's inbox had exploded with offers of work. Someone had put in a couple of glowing reviews and now he had translation jobs lined up for months, and back-up offers if something fell through. More proof, he thought, that everything was finally the way it was supposed to be. He was healthy, he was— he was _happy,_ for maybe the first time since Jacksonville. Olive and Lincoln seemed pleased to have him around, and most incredibly, Nick could actually make himself useful to them.

He was trying not to bother them, honestly, but Olivia had asked him to swing by the Harvard lab if he had time. The best part about working on his own was that he always had the time, and would have made the effort for her even if he didn't. 

The lab was buzzing when he got there, everyone busy with some new case that had just landed in their laps. Olivia saw him and came over. "Sorry, I'd hoped we could go to lunch, but something's come up. I wanted to give you this." She handed over a badge. "Your credentials have been approved. Civilian consultant to the Department of Homeland Security."

Nick took it and stared, marveling. "From mental patient to government agent in a few short months."

Almost as amazing as Olive standing there smiling at him, and Lincoln being just across the room. Nick was trying desperately not to leak his emotions all over the place, but the two of them strained all his controls. "You're busy, we'll catch up later."

Olivia nodded gratefully and turned away, already focused on her new case. Nick waved briefly to Lincoln and escaped the lab, opting for a long walk through the tree-shaded campus rather than heading directly back to the bus stop. He needed some time to work through what he was feeling before he sat in close proximity to other people.

It didn't help that he could feel Olivia's deep sense of guilt when she looked at him, combined with a desire to make it up to him at any cost.

It didn't help that he could feel Lincoln's more straightforward desire, all those old pent-up high school frustrations returned in force.

He _felt_ Olivia wanting to reach out to touch him, even as she held herself so tightly in check. He _felt_ Lincoln wanting— well, everything.

No one was a kid anymore, and none of them were innocent. Olivia had lovers before Lincoln. Lincoln had conquered his fears and learned what his body could do, with both men and women.

Opportunities had been limited at St. Jude's, though not unattainable. And when he was out, that first time and for the past few months, Nick did his best to make up for lost time. He'd been careful, as safe as he could be with partners met at bars and strip clubs. No one he cared about, no one he cared to see more than once, that was best. None of them had seen the inside of his apartment, his safe space. By now he'd forgotten their numbers and most of their names.

Nick had meant it when he said they were the only two people he'd ever loved, at least in that sense. He'd cared about his parents, once he'd stopped hating them, and a couple of the shrinks who'd nearly been parental in their concern. 

But he'd been in love with Olivia Dunham before he even knew what that meant, and Lincoln Lee for half that time. They'd both been his anchors at critical points in his life, and if that was all they were, he might as well turn around and go back to New York; Nick had been through enough therapy and counseling to know he couldn't base his life on anyone else's. But he was making a life here for himself, he had a legitimate career of his own and now a genuine chance to be useful with his abilities. 

It still felt like fate, all the factors that brought the three of them back together. And if he couldn't be with either of them, Nick could be happy, honestly, that they'd found each other.

Everything would be a lot easier if they'd stop projecting their libidos in his direction, though.


	5. Shot Right Through With a Bolt of Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From “A Better Human Being” through “The End of All Things.” Quite a bit of dialogue and action lifted from the latter episode.

Nick had come by for his badge in the middle of a case involving a bunch of hive-mind teenagers and the doctor who'd created them all using his own genetic material. "There really aren't any normal days in this job, are there," Lincoln said during the investigation, half-joking and knowing that "normal" was now a thing of the past. Part of him wouldn't want it any other way.

Almost more interesting, though, was Olivia's request to Walter that he try to determine why Nick's abilities had come back and hers hadn't. "Not that I want to start setting fires," she said hastily. "But Nick and the others at Massive Dynamic are manifesting and I'm not, and I'd like to know why."

Walter's bizarre sensors didn't find anything unusual, but his exhaustive tests on her blood and hair samples had put him in an agitated state by the time Lincoln returned to the lab. "I need to see Nina Sharp," Walter demanded, as angry as Lincoln had ever seen him. Walter explained that there was Cortexiphan in Olivia's blood, a recent dosage, which should have been impossible. "And you haven't noticed anything odd?" Walter asked, turning to him, proving that he was more observant than he occasionally appeared.

There really hadn't been anything that Lincoln could think of, which Walter seemed to take as a sign that the drug hadn't had any adverse effects yet. But the facts remained that the formula for Cortexiphan had been destroyed years ago, the only remaining samples stored deep in the Massive Dynamic vaults, and Nina was the only one who had access to those vaults.

Olivia and Peter had the ongoing case in hand, so Lincoln thought it best to follow up with Walter without alerting them. He found himself truly hoping that Walter was mistaken; Olivia's relationship with Nina was too important to her to be doubted on a whim.

The initial meeting with Ms. Sharp proved unproductive. She appeared equally as surprised by Walter's results, and willing to take him and Walter to the biometrically secured vault. When Lincoln insisted they go immediately without alerting any of her personnel, she seemed startled but agreed for Olivia's sake.

The vault was an impressive piece of hardware, complete with the promised biometric lock that only opened to Nina's handprint. The vials with their red fluid looked secure, but Walter went one step further and tasted the substance, declaring it false. Nina looked shocked by the assertion but Lincoln was no longer as willing to take her words, or her expressions, for the truth.

There was no cell signal inside the vault. Lincoln stepped outside to call Olivia's phone and was sent straight to voicemail. Frowning, he tried Peter's number and was answered with a shouted "I've been trying to reach you!" 

Peter and Olivia had wrapped up the case and stopped at a gas station on the way back, partly to fill up the car and partly to appease Olivia's tiny bladder (Lincoln knew it well by now), and she'd vanished.

Lincoln's grip on his phone threatened to cut his hand. "What do you mean, 'vanished'?"

"I mean gone!" Peter sounded both frustrated and concerned. "She went inside, or at least I thought she did, but the clerk says he didn't see her. You'd better get your teams down here."

* * *

Agent Broyles, to Lincoln's eternal gratitude, didn't waste a moment getting FBI agents and B.P.D. over to the station to check traffic cams and simultaneously moving on Lincoln's word to take Nina Sharp into custody. Since there was little Lincoln could do on either scene, he agreed to Peter's suggestion that they check out Olivia's apartment. "If Walter's right and Olivia is being dosed with Cortexiphan, it stands to reason that happened when she was alone and vulnerable."

Lincoln glanced around, the now-familiar furnishings not yielding any clues. "She hasn't been alone."

"Because you've been staying over." Peter's face was a study in contradiction, but Lincoln didn't have time for that now.

"Yes," he said shortly. "But not all the time. It's possible they—whoever the hell 'they' are—were here when I wasn't."

"Not your fault, Lincoln." Peter stared up toward the smoke alarm on the ceiling, then climbed up on a chair to pull it down. "Here's how they knew when to come."

Lincoln stared at the closed-circuit camera in Peter's hand. Whatever was going on here was bigger than a random occurrence, a planned and surgical operation—which again, pointed to Nina Sharp and Massive Dynamic. "What's the endgame here? Why dose Olivia with Cortexiphan?"

Peter continued to disassemble the device, pulling out a memory disk. "Maybe the 'who' can tell us why. I'll take this back to the lab, see if Walter and I can get anything useful off it."

He should have taken the disk as evidence, but Lincoln had grown to trust Peter's instincts. And the man had incentive to help, obviously caring about Olivia as a reflection of the Olivia he'd lost. "Good. I'll take another run at Sharp, see what she has to say."

* * *

Broyles went at Nina hard, but either she really was a stone-faced actress, or she was telling the absolute truth: she had no idea about the Cortexiphan or why Olivia was taken. When confronted with the evidence that the logs on the vault showed her entering within the last three months, she looked honestly stunned...and then suggested a shapeshifter had taken her place to infiltrate the facility. It was the best of defenses, completely plausible given their unique knowledge and at the same time, absolutely unprovable. 

The interrogation came to an end with Nina's demand for an attorney, again reasonable given the circumstances. Lincoln found himself standing outside the room, wracking his brain for any connection they might have missed. Maybe Peter could dig something off of the memory disk, but if he couldn't, and Nina really was telling the truth—

He wasn't doing Olivia any good standing here. He asked Agent Broyles, as politely as he could, to keep working on Nina Sharp. Olivia might trust her implicitly, but Lincoln still had his reservations. 

Lincoln headed back to the lab to find that Peter and Walter and Astrid had uncovered a faint image through the video recovery. Astrid started running it through the databases and facial recognition programs, only to find that the man on the camera had been dead for three years. That revelation put a whole new spin on Nina's insistence of her innocence. "It really could have been a shapeshifter at the vault," Lincoln breathed, and Peter nodded.

"Or a doppelganger from the other universe. The thing is, I've been racking my brain trying to figure out—why would Nina, or anyone else, be dosing Olivia with Cortexiphan? The only person who ever did anything like that, at least in my timeline, was David Robert Jones. Maybe he's trying to do the same thing again, activate her abilities."

Lincoln stared at him. "Why?"

"I don't know. We could never figure it out. But maybe it's for the same reasons now."

"...but she's not the only one with abilities," Lincoln said slowly. He had the flicker of an idea now, something maybe Jones hadn't counted on. "Nick has a connection to Olivia, a psychic link." It seemed so obvious now, but he hadn't wanted to worry Nick before they knew anything for certain, hadn't thought of that intrusive connection as something that could be _useful._ "Walter, can we use that to find her?"

The moment he broached the idea, Walter perked up excitedly. 

"That's an excellent idea, my boy! Call him in, I'll set up the equipment!" Walter dashed off, calling for Astrid, before Lincoln could ask what the experiment would entail. But with Olivia possibly in danger, he thought, Nick wouldn't hesitate any more than he would.

He reached Nick's new apartment and found Nick waiting for him on the curb. "Have they found—" he gasped, although Lincoln had brought him in on the situation just a few minutes ago.

"No, no news. We're— I'm hoping you can find her."

"Whatever it takes," Nick said grimly, and spent the ride staring out of the window, hands twisting helplessly in his lap. If he hadn't been driving, Lincoln didn't know if he could have resisted the desire to reach across the small space and still Nick's hands with his own.

At the lab Nick marched straight over to Walter, his face resolute. "Lincoln said that Olivia was being dosed with Cortexiphan again. If you need to do that to me, to make my ability stronger, I'm willing."

Walter nodded solemnly. "We'll save that in reserve for the moment. I feel confident that with the link you already have to Olivia, you should be able to reach her without too much trouble." He hesitated, then put out his hand to Nick. "Thank you for agreeing to make the attempt."

Nick eyed him, seemed about to snap, then shook his head. "Later. Let's find Olivia now."

In short order Nick was lying on one of the lab tables, being coaxed into a deep trance by a mild sedative and flashing lights above his eyes. It was possibly the least invasive of Walter's devices and Lincoln was grateful for that, if nothing else. 

"I'm hypnotically stimulating an R.E.M. state to enhance his psychic connection to Olivia. We're tuning his antenna, as it were. He's very receptive," Walter said quietly, "very easy to put in trance. I— I think I remember that Nick always was suggestible."

"Reminisce later," Lincoln snapped, then put his hands up apologetically to Walter's started look.

"Hey," Astrid said, "we're all worried about Olivia." She gave him a supportive smile, and Lincoln managed a nod if not a similar expression in return.

"She's uncomfortable," Nick said suddenly, from the table. "Her wrists hurt. I think she's in handcuffs." He frowned and his hands twitched, as if he was trying to free his arms. "It's cold and her head hurts."

"Can you see where she is? Anything?" Lincoln blurted before he could stop himself. Walter threw him a look full of disappointment.

"Their link is empathic, not telepathic. But we can still gather some useful information. Nick, what else do you feel?"

"She's angry. She's—" Nick surged up, nearly hitting his head on the flashing lights. "They're hurting her!"

Every muscle in Lincoln's body clenched tight. "Olivia? She's—"

Nick shook his head. "No, not Olivia. Nina Sharp. They're hurting her to try to make Olivia do something."

Lincoln stared at him. "Agent Broyles has Nina Sharp in detention right now."

Peter snapped his fingers. "That's the shapeshifter! Or the alternate Nina. Either way, they're using Olivia's connection to her to try to activate Olivia's abilities."

"Okay. So— I have an idea." Lincoln stepped around to the table, ignoring Walter's frown. "Nick, it's Lincoln."

Nick smirked despite his agitation. "I know."

Lincoln hesitated, then reached out to take Nick's hand. "I know you can send Olivia your feelings, you've done it before. Can you let her know we're looking for her? That the Nina she's seeing isn't the real one?"

Nick's hand tightened on his. "She knows. She can feel I'm with her. She—" he paused, his face frozen in concentration like he was listening, and then his lips curved in a smile. Nick's eyes opened. "She has a plan."

* * *

They'd caught her at the gas station, with a needle to the back of her neck before she'd even been aware of their presence.

Olivia woke in a cold cell, with Nina Sharp sitting restrained and haggard across from her. Nina explained how she'd been replaced by a duplicate, and before Olivia could begin to process that, David Robert Jones walked into the room, reeking of ozone and triumph.

He explained that he'd been dosing her with Cortexiphan...and then held a drill to Nina's robotic arm, an attempt to provoke her ability into emerging. Olivia would have burned him where he stood, if she was able, if Nina wouldn't be endangered as well by the attempt. When Olivia failed to manifest, Jones decided to play a little game with a light box, with Nina hanging off a wire frame in the next room and him taunting Olivia to turn on the lights in between torturing Nina with electrical shocks.

If anger and fear was all it took, Jones would have been a bonfire by now. Olivia could almost _feel_ the Cortexiphan burning in her blood, but some critical circuit was missing, some factor that would allow her to truly manifest.

When she felt Nick's touch in her mind, the sense of all his worry and agitation and love, she knew precisely what she was missing.

She'd had a suspicion, but the flashing impressions Nick sent that Olivia's brain interpreted as a null sign over Nina's face confirmed the truth. This was all a farce, constructed to make her unleash her buried abilities. If that's what they wanted....

She sent back an image to Nick, hoping he'd understand and act on it, and slumped in her chair during the brief break Jones had allowed. "This isn't going to work. I don't want them to keep hurting you, but... the only person that this has ever worked with is Nick."

The woman masquerading as Nina Sharp looked at her in confusion...which would have been a dead giveaway if Olivia hadn't already realized she was an imposter. "Who?"

Olivia winced, trying to sound exhausted and defeated—not difficult on that first part. And the rest of it was the truth. "Nick Lane, from the trials. The Cortexiphan, my abilities— it only ever worked when I was around him. He's here in Boston now, we just reconnected."

Almost immediately "Nina" feigned distress, some kind of internal injury, and Jones' henchmen came to take her out of the room. 

What she intended was dangerous, but Olivia couldn't see any other way out. She had no impressions of where she was other than this stark room, and she hadn't heard anything to guide a team to her location. Nick would just have to forgive her.

In a far shorter time than she'd expected she felt a familiar presence in her mind again, even before the sliding metal panel over the window started to rise, revealing Nick on the other side. He didn't look too roughed-up, although there was a bruise rising on his cheek to attest to his mock resistance.

Olivia opened her mind to him, letting him feel her gratitude and her distress, and put on her most shocked face. "Nick?"

Nick groaned, playing for the crowd, and Olivia'd be damned if she didn't feel a slight hint of glee behind his pained expression. "Olive. Are— are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm okay. Did they hurt you?" It was more than a pretense of a question, and Olivia was more relieved by the wave of reassurance he sent than his head shake.

Jones returned, clearly assured of his triumph. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Lane." He smirked toward Olivia, "By now, you must have realized that your every word was being monitored. If I overheard you correctly, you believe this man will be helpful in evoking an emotional response, so let's give it a try, shall we? Unless, of course, I was mistaken."

Olivia glared, starting to gather her concentration. Jones' unpleasant smile grew wider. "I find your silence encouraging."

Nick stirred, playing up his role to the hilt. "Don't do it, Olivia." He froze when Jones' henchman put a knife to his throat, and Olivia felt his flicker of fear. It was Olivia's turn to send him reassurance, along with a warning, as clearly as she could, not to move.

Jones continued to gloat. "I'm afraid you must, or Leland here will start slicing off pieces of your friend."

Nick closed his eyes, his mind reaching to hers like when they were children: not projecting a specific emotion but strengthening the bond between them, helping her make contact with the part of herself that had been buried long ago.

She felt it flicker, flare into life, and Nick's support along the link as well.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and stared at the light box.

It was— it was _easy,_ to find the mechanism inside, child's play to flick on one switch, then another, then all of them.

She heard Jones saying, "Excellent, Agent Dunham. I knew you had it in you." But his voice was faint, inconsequential next to the roaring in her head, her ability now surging to escape. It leapt to the electrical system in the room, throughout the whole hospital, powering and overpowering dead circuits. 

"What are you doing, Olivia?" Jones asked, starting to sound alarmed, and she nearly laughed at him.

"I'm doing what you wanted. I'm turning on the lights."

It's _nothing_ like when she was a child. Not an uncontrolled surge this time, but a directed application of pure power. She imagined her eyes might be glowing, like in a comic book, and if she tried she probably could take out the whole city—

Not-Nina was talking, but Olivia dismissed her, laying her deception bare with contempt. Jones and Nina looked at the flaring lights and made a break for it. 

Everything surged at once, the power running from her to the lights overhead and then down, manifesting as a bolt of lightning that hit Leland and sent him sprawling. Dead, some faint corner of her mind, noted, but that didn't matter compared to what else she could do now—

She felt Nick in her head again, sending a warning like a cold bucket of water in her face, and the lights went out as suddenly as she'd turned them on.

"...holy crap, Olivia." Nick was staring at her through the glass, clearly shaken but without—thank God—the slightest hint of fear. The electronic lock on the door between them had been fried during the power surge, and Olivia made her way over to Nick's chair.

"So that worked," Nick said wryly as she cut him free. "I knew you had it in you."

"It just made sense to try, since the only time my abilities ever worked was with you." She pulled away the last of his bonds and took his hand—almost an unconscious reflex, leftover conditioning from Jacksonville. "Okay. Come on."

Once they were in the hallway, a wave of dizziness and nausea hit Olivia like a tank. She fell to the floor, feeling the seizure work its way from her brain down her spine, while Nick bent over her with panic on his face. Neither of them had time to react before one of Jones' accomplices appeared, pointing a gun in their direction.

The man aimed his gun at Nick's head. "On your feet, both of you!"

Nick went for the rational approach. "Hey, man, she's sick. Give her a—"

"I said get up!" The guy swung his gun to cover Olivia as she moved, and then his face contorted as he convulsed and doubled over, clutching at his head with both hands. 

Olivia threw a quick glance in Nick's direction, seeing his face tight with concentration, and she crawled as quickly as she could toward the fallen gun. She'd just gotten it aimed when she saw it was unnecessary; the would-be gunman was sprawled on the floor, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. 

"He shouldn't have pointed a gun at you," Nick said hoarsely. "Let's get out of here."

"We've got to find Jones," Olivia gasped, despite the pain in her head. Nick looked like he was about to argue but instead came over and put his shoulder under her arm to help her along. 

They turned a corner to see Jones and a glowing, familiar portal. "Jones...don't move," Olivia called, trying to keep her voice from wavering and bringing the gun up to aim. 

Jones, damn him, sounded as composed as ever. "That was quite a display you put on in there, Miss Dunham. Your love for this man must be something quite profound."

Olivia kept the gun leveled. "Step away from the portal."

He ignored her, which she expected, and when he turned with a final quip, she shot at him once. It was a clean hit—the bullet wound was evident in his throat—but Olivia saw with horror that it hadn't slowed him down in the least. 

"It would seem there are some fringe benefits to having one's body reassembled at an atomic level," Jones said with a smirk, and then he waved cheerily and was gone. 

"Did you see—" she started, and then another seizure hit her.

Nick was there, catching her before she fell. "I saw. What a freak, huh?" he said, and Olivia smiled despite the pain. "There's an exit back this way."

On the grounds outside, Nick lowered her gingerly to the steps and pulled out a cell phone. "Grabbed this from the guy in the hall." He tapped in a number. "Lincoln! It's Nick. Olivia's okay, I'm okay, we're at—" He glanced around, spotted a sign. "Plainfield Memorial, it looks abandoned. Um, an ambulance might be a good idea. And whoever you have to come collect some super-villain tech. —no! She just had, uh, some kind of seizure...?" Nick winced and spoke quickly into the phone again. "She's fine, really, she looks much better now." He listened for another moment before he clicked off the phone. "Lincoln's on his way, and so are the ambulances."

Olivia nodded gingerly, once she was sure her head wasn't about to fly off her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm feeling better. I guess all the energy that I expended did a number on my nervous system."

"That makes sense. I guess." Nick fidgeted for a moment, then sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Olivia leaned into him, grateful for his warmth. "I went back to my apartment, just like you showed me. I didn't let them put a bug on me, I didn't want to give away that we knew they were coming. Lincoln didn't want to let me do this, but I convinced him you thought it was best."

"I'm so sorry I used you as bait."

"Hey, I said I would help. Besides, that was awesome. 'cept for the part where you almost went all Dark Phoenix." Olivia shot a baffled glance at him through her impending migraine. "Uh. Galadriel with the Ring? You know, 'All shall love me and despair'?"

Her head was hurting too much to try to deconstruct his metaphors. "Thank you, Nick," Olivia whispered, and closed her eyes.

She felt his lips brush her temple as he murmured, "I love you, too."

* * *

Astrid, bless her, took on the task of organizing the response teams and sent him on his way as soon as Lincoln ended the call with Nick. Peter jumped in the car and navigated to the abandoned hospital, leaving him free to concentrate on the road. 

Lincoln had never driven so fast in his life. 

They were sitting on the steps of the overgrown structure, Nick's arm wrapped around Olivia's shoulders and her head resting in the crook of his neck. Lincoln took the stairs two at a time and crouched in front of them, trying to see Olivia's face while Peter stood back and watched them with sympathetic eyes. "Liv?"

Olivia cracked her eyes open enough to see him. "Hey. That was fast."

"Warp speed," Lincoln said just to gauge her reactions, and was relieved to see her roll her eyes while Nick grinned. "You're okay...?"

"Tired," Olivia said, starting to pull herself up. "But yeah, I'm okay. Really, Lincoln."

"I hope you don't mind if we let the EMTs decide, and get a second opinion from Walter," Lincoln said firmly, and wasn't sure whether to be thankful or alarmed when Olivia didn't argue. "You had a seizure?"

Nick spoke up. "She used her abilities to fry a guy. It was amazing, but that kind of thing can really take it out of you." They both glanced at him, and he shrugged. "Psychic powers take work, y'know."

"You— never mind, you'll tell me later. But why did you have them bring Nick?" Not that he'd wanted to be kidnapped, but some small caveman part of him was disappointed that he hadn't had the chance to ride to Olivia's rescue. A very tiny part. Infinitesimal. 

"My abilities only worked when Nick and I were together as kids, I thought the link would help." Olivia shot him a wry glance. "But next time I need to have my kidnappers call someone as a hostage, I can point to you first...?"

Lincoln managed a faint smile, caught out, but it was going to be a while before he found any of this funny. 

"And if that hadn't worked," Nick said, "I would've made them all slit their own throats." The way he said it, completely as a matter of fact, sent a chill down Lincoln's spine. "I didn't have time to concentrate before Olive did her thing, or I would've tried to stop that Jones guy and the other Nina."

"I'm just glad you're both all right." Lincoln wrapped his arms around Olivia, to hell with anyone watching, and held out his hand to Nick. They stood there in their closed circle of three, the cool breeze washing over them as the ambulances and the FBI teams started to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Completely uncontrollable giggling_ when I realized I could write the opposite of the “Bad Dreams” scene, with Walter hypnotizing Nick to find Olivia. Sometimes fic gives you gifts.
> 
> Little bit of a break here while real life chews my face off, and I wait to see if 4x20 gives me anything fun to play with.


	6. Whenever I Get This Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The back half of this fic was written for polybigbang. Still post-"End of All Things."

The fallout from Olivia's kidnapping reverberated through two worlds. Massive Dynamic began a, well, _massive_ overhaul of their security systems and procedures. The other side had been alerted to Jones' and the other Nina's crossover into their universe, though Lincoln didn't hold out much hope of their being found. Jones had been operating undetected for years; if he'd had a brilliant and amoral Nina Sharp on his side all this time, Jones' relative invisibility suddenly became a lot more plausible.

Massive Dynamic had, of course, swept in to help clean up after the events at Plainfield Memorial. The retrieval teams took charge of Jones' (now-nonfunctional) portal device, and the guys Olivia had fried and Nick had...brain fried. The first was a smoldering corpse. The second was in what the doctors proclaimed to be a permanent catatonic state.

Nick shrugged when Lincoln gave him the update. "He came at us with a gun. I'm not crying about that."

Lincoln probably should have been more concerned about it, but he couldn't summon the outrage. Nick had been defending Olivia and himself and that made his actions justifiable, regardless of the method.

As for Olivia herself...she claimed to be "fine," as she always did, and the various neurological tests (both the hospital's and Walter's) backed her up. Lincoln really wasn't sure what the protocol was when your girlfriend suddenly exhibited a psychic ability—and a distinctively destructive one, at that. Trying to research "electrokinesis" just brought up role-playing games and new-age supernatural websites, and Dr. Fayette's report on the Cortexiphan subjects' various abilities read like so much science fiction.

Lincoln appreciated science fiction, in the abstract. He was learning to live with its too-tangible appearances in what he had previously thought of as the real world. But seeing the consequences of Walter's mad-scientist experiments manifest in the woman he loved—the people he loved, since Nick was definitely included in that circle now—made all rational arguments moot. He was allowed to worry, dammit. 

Fortunately, he had back up on that point.

* * *

Broyles was immovable. "You've suffered a trauma, which alone requires leave. Never mind this manifestation of _abilities,_ " he told Olivia with a wry twist of his mouth. "And since there is a dedicated program in place to control these abilities, I strongly encourage you to take advantage of it."

It was more than a suggestion, so Olivia went on paid leave and packed for New York. Nina offered a room at her brownstone, but Olivia took Massive Dynamic up on its proposal to spring for a nearby hotel; she'd gotten used to her own space. The one person she was willing to share it with wasn't going with her, since Lincoln was holding down the fort at Fringe Division and examining the surveillance on the shapeshifter who'd replaced FBI analyst Diane Kelly.

She also would've preferred to have her original partner back, but Nick had already gone through the training and was currently on some kind of translation deadline that made his coming up for a joint session unworkable.

By midway through the training program Olivia could demonstrate a very small level of electrokinesis on request. She still had trouble manifesting a larger effect unless she was extremely agitated or afraid for someone she cared about, and those kinds of circumstances were difficult to manufacture. After some discussion, she and the Massive Dynamic scientists tabled the experiment of crossing over to the other universe until there was cause. The truce between the two worlds was holding and Olivia didn't want to threaten that with a sudden appearance.

Olivia found getting to know (or renewing her acquaintance with) the other subjects far more interesting. Their abilities were impressive: Nancy Lewis' pyrokinesis, Timothy Ober's psychometry, Julie Heath's telekinesis. The FBI was still working to find the rest, though some of them were unavailable or uninterested. James Heath had died of cancer two years ago, Nancy's twin sister Susan refused to have anything to do with any of it, and Cameron James had vanished. But Massive Dynamic had also found a few of the test subjects from the Ohio trials, including a man named Simon Phillips whose uncontrolled telepathy had kept him a virtual prisoner in his home for over twenty years. The look on his face when he entered the room full of "Cortexikids" (Nick's designation) whose minds he couldn't read was so full of relief, it made the entire program worthwhile.

On her own initiative, Olivia also worked on strengthening her psychic link with Nick, both in blocking him out and deliberately trying to reach him. That was how she immediately knew, even when they weren't actively communicating, when something went wrong.

* * *

Lincoln's phone rang at 1:52 a.m., waking him out of a just-attained sleep. The name on the cell's display both alarmed him and made him automatically forgive the caller. "Olivia, hey—"

"It's Nick," she said without preamble. "Something's wrong, and he's not answering his phone. Can you get over to his place? I'm driving down, but it'll take a few hours."

"On my way," Lincoln said, already up and looking for his pants. "Is he okay?"

"He's— sad. Depressed. It's like a black hole, Lincoln." He heard Olivia draw in a breath, almost a sob. "If he starts projecting to the rest of his building—"

"Got it," Lincoln said, and grabbed his keys. "Heading out. Just, uh, keep sending good thoughts back at him, or whatever you do."

"Right. You too," Olivia said, and clicked off.

Nick's apartment building seemed normal enough from the outside, but as soon as Lincoln stepped through the outer doors, he could feel something was off. A low-level sort of...psychic haze, recognizable because he'd felt it before, a creeping wave of sadness.

He heard a woman crying loudly from behind a closed door as he stepped into Nick's hall. One of the other apartments opened and a man stepped out, half dressed in running sneakers and a bathrobe, tears on his face. He stopped when he saw Lincoln. "Thought I'd go for a walk," he mumbled, looking confused, his face twisted with referred grief.

"Not—not a bad idea. Get some fresh air," Lincoln said softly, thinking that distance might clear the guy's head. It might even be a good idea to get everyone else out of the building, but he had to check on Nick first.

He knocked on Nick's door, which opened after a brief delay. Nick saw his face and immediately, the miasma in Lincoln's brain lifted. "Oh," Nick breathed. "Oh, dammit—"

He lifted his hands to his face, the same gesture Lincoln had seen in the New York apartment. Nick seemed to concentrate, eyes squeezed tightly shut. At the other end of the hall Bathrobe Guy stopped with his hand on the door to the stairs, and after a moment he shook his head and turned to walk back toward his own apartment, his eyes clear. 

"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" Nick murmured, his words muffled behind his hands. 

"Not that I can tell." Lincoln listened, but the sounds of sobbing from down the hall seemed to have stopped too. "I think it's okay now. Are— are you?"

Nick dropped his hands and gave Lincoln a bitter smile. "You mean, will I flip out and force everyone in the building into a suicidal daze? Nah, not today. Come in, you want coffee? Since I'm not getting back to sleep anyway."

Lincoln stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Olivia called me, she was worried."

"Yeah, I should've known." Nick was moving around his small kitchen with intent, deliberately keeping his hands busy and his head down. "I've got it locked down again. She—" he stopped a moment, looking into the distance, and then smiled again, the expression a little more genuine this time. "She knows it's okay now."

Lincoln would call her later, but right now he thought Nick needed him more. "You were doing so well."

"It snuck up on me." Nick came out of the kitchen with two mugs, Lincoln's coffee already doctored the way Nick knew he liked it. Nick had tea as usual, and Lincoln belatedly realized that Nick had started keeping coffee in his apartment just for him and Olivia. "It's Kendra's birthday. And I— I _forgot_ it, Lincoln."

Lincoln remembered her vaguely, Nick's younger sister who'd tried to hang out with them whenever Lincoln went by the Lanes' home during high school. But he also knew that Nick didn't have any living relatives. "I'm sorry."

"You don't— you don't know. They sealed that part of the file." Nick sat down heavily on the couch. "There wasn't any proof that I killed her. But I did."

Lincoln put his mug down and came around the coffee table to sit next to Nick. He could guess at the sequence of events, considering Nick's history and his parents' rush to have him committed. But from the look on Nick's face it was also equally clear that Nick had never forgiven himself for what must have been a terrible accident. "You don't have to talk about it now."

When Olivia opened the door, less than three hours later—she must've blown every speed limit in three states—Nick was curled up on the couch, his face buried in Lincoln's shoulder. Lincoln and she exchanged a brief half-whispered, half-mimed conversation, his communication hampered because one arm had gone to pins and needles. 

"Hey, Olive," Nick said without opening his eyes, and Lincoln jumped; he'd honestly believed Nick was asleep. "Linc, you wanted me to move, you shoulda just shoved me over."

"Figured it was better to let you sleep. I'll know better next time, you faker," Lincoln said, but didn't move otherwise. Olivia had come over to sit on Nick's other side and it seemed rude to push Nick over onto her.

"You gonna send me back to St. Jude's?"

Nick's voice was steady, but Lincoln could feel the tension in his body. Olivia hesitated, then reached over to take Nick's hand. "I promised you, no one would send you anywhere you didn't want to go. But I'd like it if you'd come back with me to Massive Dynamic, so we can finish out the program together."

Lincoln saw Nick's hand tighten around hers. "That's...probably a good idea."

A host of conflicted emotions chased their way across Olivia's face before she spoke again. "Nick, I know about Kendra."

Nick's head came up like a shot and he started to stand, but Olivia pulled him back down. "How?"

"I called Dr. Miller. She wasn't thrilled about being woken up, but when I explained it was an emergency involving you, she was eager to help. I...saw Kendra's face in your mind, when you were dreaming. I didn't know who she was until the doctor told me." Olivia spoke very fast, forestalling Nick's objections. "You can't be held responsible for her death, the same way I can't be for the death I caused in Jacksonville. Neither of us were in control of our abilities then."

Lincoln blinked, confused. He was fairly certain a fatal event would have been noted in the Jacksonville files, no matter how secret the experiments had been, but Olivia went on steadily. "It took me a long time to figure that one out, but I found some old tapes in Walter's things. There's one from when I was five, the first time I manifested an ability. You can clearly hear Walter and William Bell on the tape, discussing the disappearance of someone named 'Brenner' right after my...accident." Olivia gave Lincoln and Nick a wry smile. "I did some research. Joseph Brenner worked at the daycare and was reported missing by his sister in 1983. He's never resurfaced."

"Circumstantial evidence," Lincoln said because that's what it was, but the certainty on Olivia's face said that she believed in her interpretation of the facts. "And not your fault in any case."

"She knows that," Nick said hoarsely. "She's trying to tell me that Kendra's death wasn't my fault, either. But I wasn't five, I was sixteen. And I knew damn well what my ability could do by that point. I just didn't have it locked down hard enough when I started trying to cut the wrongness out of myself." The hand that wasn't gripping Olivia's fingers came up to rub at the scar on the side of his face. "I know whose fault it is. Bishop and Bell and everyone else who injected us with that poison. I wasn't as strong as you, Olive. I never will be.

"But," he continued before either Lincoln or Olivia could object, "that doesn't mean I can't be...proactive about keeping a lid on things, right?"

"Oh good," Lincoln said, and went for the obvious joke to try to defuse the atmosphere. "I thought I was going to have to quote Uncle Ben at you."

"Olivia's carrying enough responsibility for the both of us," Nick said, but his tone was lighter now, his body language more relaxed. "Least I can do is keep my bad dreams to myself."

"I think we can keep all this to ourselves," Olivia murmured. "Let me get some rest, and we can head back to New York later today...?"

"Yeah. Just— I need to say this." Nick disentangled himself from the two of them and stood up to pace. "This was all really horrible and embarrassing, and I'm gonna do my best to keep it from happening again. But I need— I need to tell you...."

He blew out a long breath before turning to face them. "My parents left me at St. Jude's and I pretty much never saw them again. Olivia, you ran away from Jacksonville because of me, because of that horrible 'joke' Walter Bishop made me play on you. I mean, I know there were other reasons, but I was part of it. Lincoln didn't leave, but only because I went away before he realized how messed up I was." He shook his head to forestall their protests. "I've been trying to, uh, mostly stay out of your way, not bother you guys too much. I want to help with the shapeshifter thing, but you know, that's got a lot to do with wanting to be— to be useful. To you both."

Nick exhaled a short laugh with no humor in it at all. "I know how pathetic this sounds, but I also know it'll be worse if I don't let it out. All that therapy was good for that much. What I'm trying to say is, I couldn't stand it if I lost you again. Either of you.

"Please don't leave me again."

Lincoln wasn't sure who moved first, him or Olivia, but they ended up on either side of Nick, their arms around him and each other. It shouldn't have felt as natural or comfortable as it did, holding him like that, Lincoln feeling Nick's agitated breathing gradually slowing to calmness against his neck.

"Sorry," Nick muttered, his breath hot against Lincoln's skin. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't—" Lincoln heard the roughness of his own voice and realized with surprise that his eyes were wet. But those weren't Nick's emotions bleeding over, they were all his. Olivia was blinking suspiciously, too, so Lincoln didn't feel too bad about the whole thing. "You don't have anything to apologize for. It's terrible, what was done to you and Olivia and the others."

Nick stepped back, wiping at his face. "Yeah, well, it's better if I don't dwell on it. I'm— I'm okay now. You two should go, I need to meditate and I can't do that with you here."

Lincoln glanced at Olivia, unsure, but she nodded. "It's a technique we learned at Cortexikid camp." Her smile was laden with irony. "That's what Nick started calling the Massive Dynamic program."

"It's no Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, but you know...best they can do." Nick shrugged.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "It's too early for me to admit that I know what you're talking about. Nick, I'll pick you up later?" He nodded and she reached out to squeeze his hand. "Get some rest."

As he and Olivia headed back outside, Lincoln steered her over to his car. Hers would be fine where it was, and after the drive she'd had, he didn't want her to have to concentrate on the road.

Olivia's apartment wasn't far. Lincoln had thought to drop her off—she really did need sleep before heading back to New York—but Olivia tilted her chin at him in invitation and he had no resistance to her at all.

They'd barely stepped inside her apartment when she turned to him. "Lincoln, I can't even express— thank you so much for going to him."

He frowned a little. "Well, of course. You sounded—"

"No, you don't understand." Olivia's voice was full of meaningful undertones. "Nick was spiraling out of control. I felt it through the link. But the second you showed up, that cascade of despair and self-loathing just stopped."

The implications were obvious. Lincoln took a long breath, trying to order his thoughts. "Well...we already knew how he feels about us, so I guess it's good that we can both help him like that."

Olivia smiled tiredly. "This is what it meant when we agreed we were responsible for him."

"I don’t mind," Lincoln said quickly. "It's...good to have people I care about in my life again."

"I know." Olivia leaned against him, then looked up. "Come take a nap with me. You didn't get any sleep either."

There wasn't anything pressing on his desk, and he could text a note to Astrid that he'd be in late. "Sure. But wait, one more thing." Lincoln hugged Olivia tightly. "What you said, about that accident when you were little? No matter what really happened, it wasn't your fault."

"You said that already." Olivia kissed him, the touch of her mouth light but full of gratitude. "Thank you for being concerned about me, though."

"Always." He smiled down at her. "Even when you say not to be. Especially then."

Olivia wrinkled her nose at him but turned toward the bedroom without bothering with a rebuttal. Lincoln smiled to himself and followed. He knew when to savor a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very slight modification here of the Kendra story from 4x20, since it didn't quite match up with the background I'd already given Nick. Many other things from 4x20 obviously ignored. (Though I want the follow up story on that episode, too.)
> 
> From "Bad Dreams," re 5-year-old Olivia's pyrokinetic incident:  
> WILLIAM BELL: How bad?  
> FEMALE VOICE: Bad.  
> WILLIAM BELL: Casualties?  
> FEMALE VOICE: Not sure yet. We can't locate Brenner.


	7. Every Day My Confusion Grows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From "A Short Story about Love" through "Nothing as it Seems."

Nick's "refresher course" in the control of his ability at Massive Dynamic went well and he and Olivia made arrangements to return for further training at intervals. They also made arrangements to keep touch with the other Cortexiphan subjects. Nick volunteered to be a point of contact for all of them, since he had no official ties to the company. Some of the other subjects were still suspicious of Olivia for her connection to Nina Sharp.

They would have been even more suspicious if they'd known about her weekend plans. Olivia's presence in New York conveniently allowed her to meet Nina for their traditional Saturday morning breakfast. Less traditional than they both wished these days, considering the demands of their work. But the effort was always worthwhile.

Nina arrived, brisk as always. She'd recovered from the FBI's interrogation, but the repercussions of the other Nina's impersonation lingered. "The whole world is on fire, starting with my office. We've had to completely reevaluate all our security measures after what that woman did." She doctored her coffee to her liking, taking her time, eyeing Olivia across the table. "But I'm always happy to take the time to see you. I know when there's something you want to talk about."

Olivia smiled in acknowledgment. She'd never been able to hide anything from Nina, from the moment Nina swooped in to save her and Rachel from foster care after their mother's death. She took a deep breath and looked Nina in the eye over the table. "I love Lincoln. I know it sounds absurd to you. I haven't known him that long. But it's like I've been waiting for him my entire life."

Nina smiled, nodding but clearly anticipating that Olivia had more to say.

She did. "I also have...strong feelings for Nick. He was such an important part of my life when I was a kid, and now—finding him was like finding a missing part of myself." Olivia hesitated, then went ahead. "I know I should be scared, all these emotions are so powerful, I know I should be more conflicted. But I can't help but just be happy that they're both in my life."

"Oh, Olivia." Nina hesitated for a long moment. "I know what that's like." She shook her head to Olivia's glance. "Allow an old woman some secrets. But it's not easy, is it? I wish I had some advice for you."

Olivia smiled, sipping at her coffee. "It's enough just to say it out loud."

Nina reached over to pat her hand. "I know you. And I know your instincts won't steer you wrong."

Olivia wished she could be as certain, but Nina hadn't seemed shocked by Olivia's confession, or pushed her to make any kind of choice. Sanction, as far as Olivia was concerned, to let herself just enjoy the rare feeling of knowing she was loved.

She went back to the Boston lab to find Peter in the process of packing up his meager possessions. He'd been making noises about leaving for a few days, ever since work on the machine proved to be a dead end. Both Dr. Bishops concurred that whatever the thing did, there was no way it could send Peter home to a theoretical third universe. With that door closed, he'd decided to look elsewhere.

Olivia watched Peter tie up his small rucksack. "Where will you go?"

"Not sure. Think I'll travel, try to clear my head." He looked at her affectionately, a sentiment she knew was a reflection of the love he had for his Olivia. "Besides, it's probably better if I get out of your way."

She smiled at him, genuinely touched. "I hope you find what you're looking for." Olivia paused, thinking. "You know, Peter, in the other universe, they have a lot more data on the rifts and vortexes. Maybe there—"

"Yeah, I was thinking about that too." Peter smiled wryly. "Walternate did ask me to be his 'emissary' between worlds. That might just be the kind of traveling I need."

"I'll put in a word with Broyles, to facilitate the authorization for you to cross over," she offered.

"Thanks. It'll be good to start moving forward again, even if I don't know where I'm going." Peter hesitated, then reached out to lightly touch her hand. "Be happy, Olivia. Wherever that takes you."

She looked at him, wondering what he'd seen, but Peter just gave her a cryptic smile and went out to catch his taxi.

Once he'd gone Broyles sent over a new case that involved tracking a serial killer. A worthy endeavor, of course, even though it barely qualified as a Fringe case except for the killer's use of pheromones. "I can smell that you're in love," he said to Olivia from the backseat of the police cruiser when they caught him, as if she needed anyone to tell her that. And then he'd sniffed at her again and said, "Twice over." Olivia stared at the cop car long after it had pulled away.

The whole universe, it seemed, was trying to send her a message. Olivia still didn't know if she was ready to hear it.

* * *

Nick's detection of a shapeshifter at Fringe Division, as amazing as the demonstration had been, turned out to be a bust. "Diane Kelly" continued to come to work every day as if she was an ordinary analyst. She'd had no communication with the other side that the surveillance teams could detect, and she hadn't made any suspicious movements.

Olivia frowned at the reports. "So aside from the fact that she probably murdered a woman and seamlessly took her place, she might as well just be another FBI analyst."

"Pretty big 'aside,'" Lincoln griped. "But we can't just leave her there. Sooner or later she'll catch on that sensitive material is being funneled away from her desk."

Olivia was fairly certain that the shapeshifter's ultimate disposition lay in the hands of Broyles and his superiors, and that she'd most likely end up in a Massive Dynamic cell. Or a dissection lab. But for the moment the surveillance continued in the hope that the shapeshifter would eventually provide a lead on Jones, the other Nina Sharp, or her mission in this world.

In the meantime they had another case. After having a "panic attack" on a flight, Marshall Bowman transformed into some kind of...porcupine man-creature...in full view of TSA officers. The officers were killed by the thing before it died and Broyles caught the case for Fringe Division with no argument from any quarter.

Some clever research by Astrid led them to one of Bowman's associates. Olivia and Lincoln knocked on Daniel Hicks' door, got no answer, and smiled identically wry smiles while reaching for their lock picks. Olivia motioned for Lincoln to do the honors. She followed him inside the dark house, flashlight shining and gun at the ready.

They had to split up to search the house. As they moved through the seemingly abandoned place something leapt at Lincoln out of the darkness, humanoid but no longer human. The resulting gunfire drove it off, but the thing that had been Hicks escaped out a window. Olivia immediately brought Lincoln back to the lab, concerned about the scratches on his shoulder from the thing's claws.

While Walter tended to the wounds, Astrid and Olivia found a mark on the Bowman-creature's body, some kind of tattoo. Walter came over to look at it, leaving Lincoln holding his own suturing needle, and tentatively identified it as Sumerian cuneiform.

"Huh." Lincoln narrowed his eyes, then sighed as Walter returned to stitch up the scratches.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "Share with the class?"

Lincoln winced as the needle pinched at his skin, then gave her a sly look. "You think Sumerian might be one of Nick's languages?"

She felt a slow smile spread across her face. Lincoln knew as well as she did how much Nick wanted to contribute to their work. "Worth asking."

Walter pushed Lincoln down as he started to get up. "Not you. You need to be stitched up."

Lincoln sighed but sat. "Go. If you learn anything, call me."

Olivia nodded, sympathetic to his thwarted desire to follow up on the case. "I will."

Nick was thrilled to be asked to help, beaming with delight when Olivia came to pick him up. Sumerian, it turned out, wasn't actually one of his languages. But he knew someone who might be able to translate. "I built up this network of people who deal in old dictionaries, rare language texts, stuff like that. This guy definitely qualifies. I've talked to him on the phone a couple of times, never in person." Nick paused. "At least on the phone, he's...a little weird."

Ed Markham in person was as weird as Nick promised, but also useful. After verifying that Nick was the same guy he'd previously talked to—a vetting process that involved a rapid verbal exchange of book titles and passages from obscure manuscripts—Markham was able to provide information about a renewal cult connected to the symbol. "Mutation by design," he said, and that sounded enough like the case they were following to raise Olivia's hackles.

She received a call from Astrid soon after they'd left Markham's shop. "Olivia, listen. Lincoln didn't want to worry you, but Walter thinks he might have been infected by that creature's claws. I knew you'd want to know."

Nick watched her face fall, maybe sensing her alarm. "Olive...?"

She couldn't lie to him. Olivia explained, as briefly as possible, and Nick insisted on going back to the lab with her to see Lincoln. She didn't protest, glad of his company even as she tried to tamp down her apprehension so Nick wouldn't feel it. From the sidelong looks he kept throwing her, she wasn't altogether successful.

Olivia stormed down into the lab, Nick at her heels. Lincoln was working at a computer, still trying to track down any further information about Bowman and his associates, seeming composed. Olivia saw the lines of strain between his eyes and knew better.

Lincoln glanced up as they came in, saw Nick—and Nick's worried face—and frowned at Astrid. "You shouldn't have called her!"

Astrid shrugged, unfazed. "Olivia's the boss. She needed to know."

Lincoln sighed. "We don't even know yet if I've been infected."

"Walter!" Olivia snapped, and narrowed her eyes at the scientist when he came over. "Tell me you've got a cure for this thing."

Walter nodded, looking her in the eye, not looking at Nick. "Well, I...yes, I think so. Assuming Agent Lee is infected. I'm still waiting for results on the culture. Right now, no news is good news."

"Yeah, that's never true," Nick said, sotto voce. He raised his voice, looking Lincoln over. "I dunno, it sounded pretty dire when Olivia told me the situation, but you look okay to me. No spines sticking out or anything."

"You're not helpful," Lincoln told him, but he was smiling. 

* * *

Nick didn't know how they managed it.

Lincoln had been attacked by some kind of mutated porcupine-man-thing, okay, and both Olivia and Lincoln were treating it just like another day at Fringe Division. He supposed it was, for them. But the way they both repressed everything they were feeling, all their anxiety over Lincoln possibly being infected...he couldn't have done it. He was barely involved and still having a hard time not spreading his panic all over the lab and maybe the school above. But then, that's why they were the agents and he could never be more than an occasional colleague.

But he could still be helpful, in his own way. Making Lincoln smile, that was one thing. And once Astrid's research led—inevitably—to old Massive Dynamic files on guided mutation, Nick volunteered to stay and keep Lincoln company. Lincoln seemed (and yeah, _felt_ ) glad to have him around, especially since Astrid was going with Olivia to confront Nina Sharp. Nick wouldn't want to have been left here with Walter and the cow, either.

Nick spotted a chess set and started lining up a game. Lincoln snorted. "I can barely keep up with you on a good day."

"Pawn and two moves?" Nick said, suggesting the handicap mostly as a needling tactic. Linc threw him an annoyed look and walked over to take the seat opposite the board, so Nick counted it as a success.

"Don't do me any favors."

Lincoln's concentration was shot but Nick hadn't expected any different, and the game was meant only as a distraction anyway.

After a while Lincoln got up and wandered over to start devouring the pile of sandwiches Walter had set out. Peanut butter and bacon sounded gross to Nick, but the way Lincoln was chowing down—

Nick frowned. He'd gotten a pretty good sense of Lincoln's tastes and generally, pork wasn't high on his preferred list. "Hey, Lincoln. I thought you weren't a big fan of bacon?"

Lincoln looked at him in surprise, then down at the sandwich in his hand, which he'd disassembled to get at the meat. "I— I'm not."

Dr. Bishop looked up from his test tubes, interested. "Craving anything else?"

"Uh...fried stuff. Cheesecake?"

Walter clapped his hands, looking far too excited for Nick's comfort. "Excellent! Now we know for sure you're infected."

Lincoln dropped the remains of the sandwich, looking nauseated. "We do? That's excellent why?"

"Because now we have a better sense of the metamorphic process. The transformation requires energy, and lipids store concentrated energy. Thus, the cravings." Walter paused. "And that explains the medical waste found at the Hicks residence as well. The subject was using the discarded fat from liposuction and other such procedures to fuel the metamorphosis."

"You mean that creature was eating _human fat_?" Lincoln's voice was high-pitched with shock and stress.

Nick had come over to stand at Lincoln's shoulder, and now he used the same sharp tone he'd heard Olivia employ earlier. "Walter. That means you can make a cure?"

Bishop glanced at him, startled, and then nodded, hastily turning back to his test tubes. "Yes, of course. I'll mix it up right away."

Lincoln leaned back against a table, looking pale and distressed. Nick turned to him, concerned. "You okay?"

"I guess I will be." He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "This definitely isn't what I signed up for. Thanks for hanging out here with me."

"No problem," Nick said lightly, but the naked worry on Lincoln's face was doing _things_ to Nick's equilibrium. It was too much like high school, when he'd constantly had to restrain himself from reaching out with an overly intimate touch. Maybe Lincoln would have welcomed the contact then—in retrospect Nick thought he would have—but back then, Lincoln had been his only friend and Nick wouldn't have risked that relationship for anything.

He took a deep breath, getting himself under control before his emotions started to leak. "Besides, I don't think porcupine would have looked good on you. I don't think Olivia would have appreciated it, either."

Lincoln glanced at him, then smiled faintly. "'Carefully,' right."

By the time Olivia and Astrid returned from Massive Dynamic with the news that David Robert Jones had been involved in the original genetic engineering experiments, Lincoln had choked down a beaker of what looked like green slime and Walter proclaimed his blood clear of infection.

"Still not freaked out?" Olivia murmured, and Lincoln rolled his eyes. It was obviously a private joke, a lover's fond teasing, but Olivia hadn't drawn Lincoln aside for a more private reunion. She'd meant for Nick to feel included, and he seized the opportunity to tease as well.

"You shoulda seen Lincoln scarfing down that bacon. Kinda gross, actually."

Lincoln groaned. "I'm gonna be tasting it for days. Still better than the cure Walter brewed up."

Olivia gave him a half smile, brief but genuine. "You can get your spoonful of sugar later. Right now, if you're up to it, Astrid and I think we've got a lead on where these people might hit next."

Lincoln straightened up, looking determined. "I'm ready."

"Can I—" Nick started, but he knew it was a lost cause even before Olivia shook her head.

"Absolutely not. You're not an agent, Nick. I won't put you at risk like that."

For a moment he considered arguing, but then Nick thought about porcupine-monster people and his lack of a firearm and nodded. "No, you're right. Just— be careful, both of you."

"Mr. Lane can stay here and help me organize my files," Walter announced, too cheerfully.

"Joy," Nick muttered.

That was the end of Nick's involvement in the case; the raid went off smoothly, the porcupine-man got taken out and his accomplice arrested, case closed. Except for a million leftover questions, but that was life in Fringe Division. Even on the outskirts of it.

* * *

They wrapped up the day lying in bed reading, after dropping Nick back at home. Being here in Olivia's apartment felt cozy, natural. Olivia was working her way through another biomedical text; Lincoln had pulled one of his well-worn favorite books out of his storage boxes and was happily trying to renew his acquaintance with an old friend.

But his brain wouldn't stop mulling over the events of the past few weeks, and Lincoln finally put the book down with a sigh.

"I've been thinking," he said slowly, "about what Nick said before. When he asked us not to leave him."

Olivia set her own book aside and turned to him. "We've told him we won't, in as many words, and I know he can sense that we mean it."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of something tangible." Lincoln glanced at Olivia, feeling self-conscious. "You still, uh, have that pendant I gave you at the hospital?" He'd given it to her after his run-in with "Gus" the sentient fungus. Even as early as his second case, he'd known that his life had changed in a profound way for meeting Olivia. Most definitely for the better, despite the hazards of the job.

"Robert's? Of course. It's right here." Olivia reached over into her bedside drawer. She sat up, thoughtfully studying the pendant displayed in the palm of her hand. "You were thinking of this for him, weren't you."

Lincoln felt himself blush and tried to recover. "I didn't mean— I gave that to you, I wasn't trying to take it back! I meant, we should find something like that."

"A place to belong," Olivia said softly. "I thought that was beautiful." She looked at him, her expressive hazel eyes full of understanding. "Would it be appropriate if we gave this to Nick together? From both of us, to be his tether." She smiled wryly. "I think he needs it more than I do."

Part of him wanted to be stung that Olivia was willing to give away his gift but he couldn't, not when she clearly appreciated how much it meant. "That's— yes. Yes." Lincoln leaned over and kissed her, his fingers enfolding her hand and the pendant.

Olivia kissed him back, sliding across the bed to press her body against his.

Their books tumbled to the floor, unheeded and uncollected until morning.

* * *

They went together to see Nick at his apartment, one evening after an unremarkable day at Fringe Division. Lincoln was coming to cherish the quiet days and rare downtime.

The three of them shared a perfectly ordinary meal of Indian takeout, but Nick kept glancing between Lincoln and Olivia as if he was waiting for a shoe to drop. No wonder; Lincoln's heart was pounding nearly loud enough to be audible. To his own ears, if no one else's. He wasn't entirely sure why—he'd been the one to propose the physical symbol, aware of the...the commitment it represented.

"What _is_ it?" Nick finally blurted out. "You're both...worked up, if you need to tell me something, please just say it."

Lincoln and Olivia hadn't really discussed how they were going to go about this but _surprises,_ clearly, were improbable when an empath was concerned. Nick didn't look overly worried, just confused, so at least the emotions he must have been picking up weren't causing him alarm.

Olivia smiled, reaching into her pocket. "I should have remembered you were always impatient to open your presents. This is for you, from both of us." She held it out to him, adding, "Lincoln can tell you more about the symbolism, but it means you'll always have a place with us."

Nick's hand closed over the pendant and he swallowed hard, seeming at a loss for words. Lincoln glanced over at Olivia for a cue. She was watching Nick closely, a faint smile on her face, and Lincoln took that as a good sign.

After a long silence Nick blurted out all in a rush, "I never thought this would be even harder. All this... _feeling,_ it's so hard to keep it from leaking out. It was bad before, when I was angry and depressed, but now it's so much bigger—" he paused, struggling.

Lincoln thought he could feel something brushing against the edges of his consciousness, _joy_ almost too immense to comprehend, before Nick shut it down. He thought he understood, but he wasn't the one with the psychic connection and he wanted to be sure. "What is, Nick?"

"Being happy," Nick said, and stood up abruptly to pace. "You have to go. I need—"

"Time alone," Olivia said, taking Lincoln's hand in a resolute grip. She squeezed hard and he got the message clearly enough. "It's okay, Nick. Call us when you can."

"Thank you," Nick whispered. He sank back down on the couch, his hands over his face, and that was the last Lincoln saw of him for a few days.

Lincoln might've defied Nick's plea for solitude if Olivia hadn't kept reassuring him. "He's okay, Lincoln, I promise. He's meditating a lot and working on a big translation project. It's keeping him occupied."

"But he's happy, right?"

"Yeah." Olivia's face got that faraway look he'd come to recognize as her accessing her link to Nick's emotions. "He's really happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back and suffered through "A Short Story about Love," which has cemented itself as my least favorite episode. It's an awful case file and Olivia's "I just didn't care" line makes me want to punch things very hard. Olivia always, always cares! It's her defining trait. And Peter needing an Observer to tell him which Olivia to love is just gross. I deny you, terrible episode.
> 
> "Nothing as It Seems" still feels like filler but oh, I did laugh about being able to use the language skills I'd given Nick to bridge the Peter gap. :D (Also, someone could have pretended to give a shit about Lincoln's impending death, but WHATEVER.)
> 
>  
> 
> Lincoln: [The pendant is] Native American. The maze represents the journey of life. The obstacles, making the right choices. Until we find ourselves in the center.  
> Olivia: What's in the center?  
> Lincoln: Home. A place to belong. ... [Robert] gave me this as a reminder that I always had a home. With him, with his family. This, he said, was my tether.  
> — "Everything in Its Right Place"


	8. The Way That It Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Everything in Its Right Place."

Peter's new residence on the other side of the Bridge considerably smoothed the relationship between worlds. Not unreasonably, the other side requested a detailed debrief of the recent encounters with David Robert Jones and his creations. Olivia was struck by an inspiration as she and Lincoln prepared for the trip and after a quick consultation with Broyles, she made the call.

She didn't dither with the offer. "Nick, Lincoln and I are heading across the Bridge for a meeting. Mostly an information exchange, but we were wondering if you wanted to come along...?"

Nick had regained his equilibrium and met up with Olivia and Lincoln a few times during the past week or so—just dinner or a movie, nothing too involved. This excursion promised to be more complicated, but Olivia was confident in his ability to handle it.

His reply was immediate. "To see the other universe? Yes, please!" Nick paused. "And...maybe see if I could sense anything about them, too?"

"That couldn't hurt. But this really is a diplomatic mission." Still, she was pleased that he'd offered without her making the suggestion; Broyles had been intrigued by the possibility, too.

Nick was practically bouncing with excitement when Olivia and Lincoln picked him up on the way to the train station. "It'll be good, I think. To see the other universe and know we're working together. That we don't have to be soldiers."

"They're too busy fighting their own world to worry about ours," Olivia said, and she and Lincoln passed the trip to Liberty Island telling Nick about the realities of the other universe.

* * *

Nick was clean-shaven for the trip, and he'd been growing his hair out from the military-short buzz cut. He'd probably always be thin, but he'd lost that underfed and anxious look he'd had when Lincoln initially saw him at his apartment in New York. He looked—

Lincoln ruthlessly stepped on the next mental word. _Good,_ that was decently neutral. Nick looked good.

Nick also looked like he was about to burst with excitement. "This is like all those books we read as kids, you know? All those stories about alternate universes come to life."

Lincoln remembered lying on Nick's bed as they read to each other from the holy trinity: Heinlein and Asimov and Clarke. Piecing together bits of Klingon vocabulary from _Star Trek_ reruns, listening to the Gin Blossoms and Hootie and the Blowfish. Two perfectly ordinary adolescent boys, by all outward appearances: Nick desperately hiding from the terrors of his past, Lincoln desperately looking for something to inspire his future. Both with no hint of how bizarre their lives would become.

Somehow events had conspired to bring them both here, standing on the threshold of another world. Lincoln smiled. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Nick glanced over at him with a grin. "To boldly go, right?"

"Right," Lincoln agreed, and they stepped through the doorway together.

* * *

They shot him up with vaccines and took him through the underground bunker on Liberty Island (he hadn't even known there was an underground, it would've sounded like conspiracy-nut stuff if he hadn't been there), and before he knew it, Nick had walked through a door into another universe.

It took his breath away. Actually, literally. He couldn't speak for the first few minutes, completely blown away by all the variances: the Twin Towers, the blimps over head, the billboards advertising flights to the moon. It felt like he'd dropped down into Oz and he'd bet that Kansas here was totally different, too.

Nick kept lifting his hand to feel the pendant under his shirt, a touchstone from Olivia and Lincoln to keep him grounded no matter where he stood. And they were right beside him too, standing guard as he was apprised of the protocols of this new world and covering for his silence.

By the terms of the treaty they'd been compelled to reveal Nick's status as an individual with particular "mental enhancements," which seemed to be a not-unknown thing over here. "But how, if they didn't have the Cortexiphan trials?" he whispered to Olivia when he rediscovered his voice.

"Gene therapy, some other advanced treatments," she whispered back. "When you meet the other Astrid, you'll see."

Peter Bishop and an Agent Francis met them for transport to this side's Fringe Division. Lincoln immediately stepped aside to talk to Peter while Olivia greeted the other agent. Nick felt a rush of emotional warmth from Olivia toward him and blinked, surprised, until he remembered what Olivia had told him about her former partner.

Agent Francis welcomed him amiably enough, but Nick had to clamp down hard on his ability when Francis pointed at the mark on his own face, oddly similar to Nick's scar. "Mine was a perp with a blade. You?"

"It...was a knife, yeah," Nick managed through numb lips.

Francis eyed him for a second, then let it go. "I understand you're a psychic? That's fine, we work with people with abilities over here. It's just, most of them aren't, uh...." he trailed off.

"Fit for ordinary human contact?" Nick suggested, letting his mouth curl in a wry smile. "Yeah, I can imagine. But those abilities sound more common over here than in our world."

Francis shrugged. "Linc— Captain Lee could probably talk your ear off about altered states of human consciousness due to the physics of our world going wonky. He'd get all technical about it, but that's the gist. Physics are out of whack and some people's brains respond by growing superpowers."

"You...don't sound thrilled about that," Nick said with some trepidation.

"No offense." Francis graced him with a twisted grin. "Stick around long enough, you'll hear me bitch about how things are different from when I was just a regular cop. World's changed faster than I can keep up with it."

Olivia smothered a rueful laugh. "I'm sorry, that just sounded very familiar."

"Your Charlie?" Agent Francis asked somberly, and Olivia nodded. He sighed, shaking his head. "Still hard for me to wrap my head around, even seeing you and _him._ " He jerked his head toward Lincoln. "Anyway, change of plans. We caught a case, we'll talk on the way."

Nick listened with half an ear as they drove. Olivia and Lincoln spent the ride filling the other two in on the run-ins with Jones, but Nick had been there for the relevant parts. He looked out of the SUV's windows, mentally cataloging differences between worlds. This world was, he finally decided, the best kind of science-fiction wish fulfillment: close enough to his own to be recognizable and familiar, divergent enough to intrigue. Granted the hazardous anomalies and vortexes didn't sound like any fun, but Peter mentioned that the spatial rifts had started to close in the Ambered zones and that Fringe Division over here was tracking far fewer occurrences overall. 

They pulled up on top of a parking garage in the Bronx. A number of police and other agents were clustered around a cordoned-off area and what was evidently a dead body under a tarp. Nick also spotted the other Olivia and Lincoln, obviously in charge of the scene.

At first he wasn't sure it really was them, because they looked so _different._ The other Olivia had red hair and a definite swagger to her movements, and Nick didn't think his Olive even owned a pair of cargo pants. The other Lincoln, "Captain Lee"....

He leaned over to Lincoln. "No glasses. Leather jacket and spiky hair. Definitely a mirror universe."

Lincoln shot him a look, half amused and half...embarrassed?...as he stepped out of the car. "You know it's the facial hair and bare midriffs that really determine the evil quotient."

Peter stifled a laugh. "I can vouch for the lack of evil over here. At least no more than the usual human kind."

"Jones not included," Olivia said, a touch grimly, and Peter nodded his agreement.

"They—we—have been looking for him and this side's Nina Sharp. No trace." He added, looking wry, "No evidence of flying porcupine-people, either."

"Some universes have all the luck," Nick said, but he hung back as the group started toward the crime scene. "Uh...."

"Stay with the car," Agent Francis said, not unkindly. "Nothin' for you to do your trick on here anyway."

Nick looked toward Olivia for confirmation and she nodded. He leaned back against the car, perfectly content not to go look at the dead body. Holding his ability in check wasn't the easiest exercise under the best circumstances, and being confronted with all these new experiences was testing his control. He needed a few moments to shore up his mental shielding anyway. Visualizing a wall between his emotions and the outside world really did work, no matter how comic-booky it sounded.

Lincoln and Olivia must have mentioned him because the redheaded Olivia glanced over his way and waved. The discussion went on for a while before Lincoln came back over to the car. "There's another scene we're going to need to investigate."

"Sure. I'm just a tourist here, remember?" Nick glanced over Lincoln's shoulder and saw Captain Lee approaching. "Incoming double alert."

Lincoln sighed—Nick would have to get the story on his irritation later—and turned to introduce them. "Captain Lee, this is our friend, Nick Lane—"

Lincoln's mirror image glanced over at Nick and his eyes widened. "Nick?"

Nick blinked hard at the powerful surge of interest/attraction/lust. "I— you don't know me."

"Guess not. But I knew the version of you over here. Really well." Captain Lee grinned, the implication clear. "Wow, I really should look your double up again."

"Um." Nick looked over at Lincoln. "Help?"

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Keep it on your own side, Captain Lee."

Lee smirked at him. "Right, got it. No poaching from my twin."

Lincoln ignored the implication, but Nick was delighted that he didn't bother with denial, either. Captain Lee, meanwhile, hadn't eased off on the desire he was projecting at Nick even the slightest and either Nick needed to put a lid on that, fast, or there was going to be a whole 'nother exercise of the phrase "interdimensional relations."

He stepped forward, just enough to lean into Lee's personal space so he wouldn't be overheard. "Listen. I'm tempted as hell. But I don't want to confuse things with my Lincoln, and that would be a lot easier if you'd...dial it back." He swallowed hard, wanting nothing so much as to lick the other man's neck, and realized he might as well illustrate the point. "Because I can't work with you when you're making me feel _this._ "

Nick sent the emotion back, just a little, and heard Lee bite down on a groan.

"Sorry," Lee said, his voice hoarse. "I— damn. I apologize. And I'm obligated to tell you that you could legitimately call me up on harassment charges, over here."

Nick drew back, blinking. "What? No, that's not— I won't mention it again if you don't." 

Captain Lee nodded and Nick felt something like a curtain come down around Lee's emotions, muting the projection. Nick smiled and retreated back to Lincoln's side, shaking his head to dismiss his friend's concern. Lee excused himself to direct the cops at the scene, presumably to the next site.

He'd been exaggerating, just a little. Nick "overheard" the same emotions every day, and managed to cope. But feeling them from Lincoln's virtual twin was just too much.

Nick dodged Lincoln's questioning look and nodded his chin toward the two Olivias. "Do they get along?"

"Uh...like two porcupines." Lincoln shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Complicated history. They're both trying to get past it."

Agent Francis put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. "Okay, move it out, people!"

Peter turned to Nick as they all piled back into the SUV. "Lincoln mentioned that you uncovered a shapeshifter mole. Would you be willing to do a walkthrough of Fringe Division here?" He grimaced. "Jones has been ahead every step of the way in both universes. He's got to have someone on the inside. If you can pick 'em out...."

"I'd be happy to help," Nick told him, and was rewarded by the simultaneous approving press of Lincoln's shoulder against his and the warm embrace of Olivia's emotional presence. Everything he'd sensed about the people of this universe said they weren't enemies. If helping them helped catch that bastard Jones, Nick was determined to do whatever he could.

Olivia and Lincoln investigated a church basement full of dismembered bodies while Nick stayed in the car, which was just fine by him. He spent an informative hour trading details about the universes with his chaperone-slash-babysitter, Agent Reynolds. By the time everyone was finished at the crime scene, Nick's view of this universe had taken a decided downturn thanks to Reynolds' questions. Between "You still have sheep over there?" and "You can get coffee whenever you want?" Nick decided he'd definitely been born on the preferable side of the Bridge. Despite everything. 

Although damn, the colonized moon bases nearly tipped the scale.

This side's Fringe Division was an impressive building all its own, not a basement laboratory. Nick liked the idea that this world was giving the agents the credit they were due, until he realized why that had to be.

Peter glanced at him sideways as the group approached the main doors. "Okay to look around first thing? Before anyone catches on to what you're doing here."

"Uh, sure."

Olivia gave him a reassuring nod. "We'll be going over our findings."

Peter guided him on a walkthrough of the building, seeming entirely at home even though he hadn't been over here that long. Olivia and Lincoln hadn't told Nick much about him—Nick had the impression that the whole "Peter Bishop situation" was semi-classified and way above his consultant's security clearance. He sort of wanted to ask how Peter was adapting to life in a new world, but the question was probably too personal for their brief acquaintance...and besides, Nick had work to do here.

He braced himself and opened up his senses, "looking" for that odd mechanical impression he'd picked up from the imposter FBI analyst. Most of the people he and Peter passed in the corridors either glanced at Nick quizzically before moving on or didn't notice him at all. They seemed perpetually on-edge and intent on their work, which made sense given the state of their world.

"Nothing," Nick finally gasped when they'd completed the circuit. He had to pull his emergency meds out of his pocket and dry-swallow them before he could continue. "Sorry, I—"

"No news is good news," Peter said, exactly the way Dr. Bishop had during the Porcupine Incident. "You all right? That looked like it hurt."

"I'm fine." He didn't bother explaining that the meds weren't for pain. "There— there aren't any shapeshifters I can sense, so unless they're out of the building...."

Peter shrugged. "It's possible, but the majority of the day staff is here and no one's out on a call at the moment. You did great. Thanks."

"You...don't look happy about it?" Nick hazarded, and Peter sighed.

"A shapeshifter would have been the simple option. I still think there's a mole, but we haven't found anything through security checks. Someone's been clever."

"I didn't sense anyone feeling guilty, or anything like that," Nick offered.

Peter nodded. "I appreciate the attempt. C'mon, let's get back to the others."

Back in the central command room Nick was introduced to this side's Astrid, who "felt" more like her alternate than any of the others, despite the obvious differences. Nick split his attention between watching her interface with the computers and eavesdropping on the two Lincolns—okay, that was fantasy fodder for _days_ —as they compared notes on their lives.

The redheaded Agent Dunham swung into a chair opposite Nick, capturing his attention. "Soooo...I hear we might've known each other in Jacksonville. Well, me and your alternate. I don't remember him, though."

He'd been wondering since Captain Lee mentioned his double, and now he had an opening. "Can I ask what he does over here?"

"Agent Farnsworth pulled up his data. Let's see—" Agent Dunham scrolled through her datapad. "No criminal or Fringe incident record. He's an advocate for Amber victims' rights. Going to law school at night, looks like." She glanced up at Nick. "We could pull some strings if you want to meet him."

"No! I mean— no need to get him involved, right?" Nick finished weakly, after the momentary flare of panic. There was no reason he should have been so unnerved by the idea, except—

Except it sounded like the Nick Lane here was a normal person, with a normal life, and he didn't need to be exposed to how fucked up his life could've been. 

Agent Dunham was looking at him sidelong, as if checking to make sure he wasn't about to blow a gasket. Nick shook his head. "I was just, uh, curious."

She nodded, clearly choosing to take him at his word. "Anyone would be. But you're right, we've restricted need-to-know about the Bridge to essential personnel. And, well, visitors." She grinned. "So, you're an empath. What've you picked up from us?"

Nick shrugged, uncomfortable. "Well, I try not to pry. But you're all, uh, really dedicated toward fixing your world. That's the biggest thing."

The other thing, still giving Nick a little bit of trouble, was just how _different_ this Olivia felt to his empathic sense. There was enough similarity that he'd never mistake her for anyone else, but the depth of emotion he got from his Olivia just...wasn't there. Agent Dunham felt strongly about other things, sure, but certainly not him. "...your world is really cool," he finished lamely.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Your side has coffee and rainbows and no vortexes. I wouldn't knock it."

"We've got a hit," Agent Farnsworth announced, and the next few minutes were full of intense debate as the agents discussed the impossibility of one of their crime scene victims walking around after her official time of death.

"All right," Captain Lee finally said in a decisive tone. "Let's bring it upstairs."

Peter jerked his head at Nick. "Come meet the boss."

Nick trailed along at the back of the group as they walked up the stairs to the glass-enclosed office that held Agent Broyles' counterpart. Nick was briefly introduced and stood, trying not to fidget, as Lincoln and Captain Lee tried to make their case. Olivia caught his unease and Nick shook his head slightly, not wanting to distract from the debrief.

Afterward, though, Peter pulled him aside. "Something wrong?"

Nick swallowed hard. "He...he's hard to read. Like the other Broyles. But the other Broyles didn't feel like he was hiding something really big."

Peter nodded slowly, and Nick frowned. "You suspected him!"

"The mole has to be someone high up," Peter said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Someone with enough clearance to alter classified details. No one here would have doubted him, but...." He shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

"What I sensed—that's not proof of anything," Nick said, more than a little anxious.

"No, but it is incentive to keep digging." Peter sighed. "And his reluctance to pursue this lead isn't making me any less suspicious."

They'd just returned to the command center when Agent Farnsworth announced another incident similar to the similar to the one at the parking garage. The room exploded into action around Nick, agents dashing to their stations and calling out data points. Nick held very still and tried not to be in anyone's way.

Whatever objections Colonel Broyles had to the investigation were overrun by the combined determination of both Fringe teams. Lincoln in particular argued for continued attention to the (admittedly sketchy) lead. Nick thought about everything Lincoln had told him about Robert Danzig and silently cheered him on.

It didn't take long for the teams to mobilize. Nick knew better than to ask to ride along; he'd be completely out of place in the militarized operations over here. He did grab Olivia before she headed out, though. "Olive, be careful. Peter doesn't trust Broyles. And I sensed the colonel's hiding something."

She sucked in a sharp breath but didn't overtly react in any other way. "That's...difficult. All right. Thank you, Nick." Olivia squeezed his hand and hurried to catch up with the others, grabbing two tactical vests from an open cabinet as she went.

Nick found a chair near Agent Farnsworth's station and listened in on the communications being passed back and forth. He started to chew on his nails as the teams closed in on the subject.

Agent Farnsworth spared him a glance. "Our division has a high success rate with this type of operation. Would you like to hear the odds?"

"N- no, thank you," Nick stammered, conscious of Colonel Broyles standing over her shoulder.

"Perhaps you'd be more comfortable elsewhere, Mr. Lane," Broyles rumbled, and a moment later a very large, very polite man in combat fatigues was at his side.

"If you'd follow me," the soldier said, and it wasn't a request. Nick wanted to protest but the guy really didn't look inclined to listen and there were a lot of guns in this room.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in a perfectly ordinary conference room set off the command center. There was tea on the sideboard and they'd given him an (access limited) datapad to read on, but Nick was way too anxious to concentrate. If he hadn't already taken the meds Massive Dynamic formulated for him, he'd be projecting that anxiety to the entire building.

His link to Olivia gave Nick an even better reason to keep from completely flipping out. She was focused on the operation so he tried not to distract her, but even the passive sense of her well-being was enough to keep him steady. Throughout the afternoon he got "updates" in the form of emotional flares: anticipation and concern and a sudden intense spike of adrenaline-fueled concentration, followed by a sense of fierce satisfaction.

And then a sort of odd _sly_ feeling, like Olivia was doing something sneaky. Nick tried to listen through the conference room door but the soundproofing was really good here. If there was something going on in the command center, he couldn't hear it.

He'd just sat back down when the door crashed open. Colonel Broyles stood there, glaring. "The entire team switched off communications and GPS tracking. Complete breach of protocol. Do you know anything about this?"

"No, sir," Nick said, automatically getting his feet, proud that he didn't stutter. He held on to his equilibrium, barely, as a wave of alarm-tension-focus poured through his link to Olivia. He gasped but Broyles was already turning away at hearing Agent Farnsworth's voice ring out.

"Colonel! Receiving local reports of shots fired at the tactical team's last documented location."

"Get me satellite!" Broyles roared, already heading back down to the command center floor. "I want a secondary team on the way—"

Nick lost the rest as a soldier reached in and shut the door again. He leaned against the table, breathing heavily, but by this time Olivia's emotional state was settling: still elevated, but coming down from whatever had startled her. Shots fired, he thought. Someone'd been shooting at them?

Olivia and Lincoln were okay, they had to be okay. If one of them had been hurt, he would've sensed that. And Olivia felt pissed off rather than upset, so he'd bet no one else had been seriously hurt either.

Afternoon was shading into evening by the time Nick felt another distinct surge of action-emotion, but this time it was more calculated: something planned. People were rushing around hurriedly in the corridor outside his room and Nick thought they'd forgotten about him by now. At some point, if he got up the nerve, he'd stick his head out and remind whoever was there that even prisoners got fed; he hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning.

He was getting a distinct sense of pleased triumph from Olivia now, though, so Nick thought it'd be best to stand pat. He picked up the discarded datapad and went back to the entertainment articles he'd been reading (Heath Ledger was still alive, but this world had never heard of George Clooney), idly translating them into multiple languages as a mental exercise.

Nick felt a burst of excitement a moment before his door flew open and he saw Lincoln standing there, grinning. "We caught her. This side's Nina Sharp. And we found their whole nerve center. There's so much—"

"Can you tell me over dinner?" Nick said, trying not to sound too plaintive about it, and after a second Lincoln leaned against the doorframe and started laughing, real laughter so full of relief that Nick couldn't help joining in. Olivia found them a few minutes later, still giggling at each other.

She eyed them both, mouth twitching. "If you can pull yourselves together, we'll be doing a full debrief. Yes, Nick, food's being delivered. I've been feeling your stomach growling for the past two hours."

"Sorry," Nick said, wiping at his eyes. He walked over and pulled Olivia into a hug, ignoring the agents in the corridor. "I'm so glad you're all right. Both of you."

"Yeah," Lincoln said hoarsely, and Nick felt Lincoln's hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"Come on," Olivia said, her voice gentle. "Let's wrap this up so we can go home."

* * *

Listening in on the debrief was like fitting puzzle pieces into an outline Nick already knew. The tactical team had cornered and captured a shapeshifter, the man—being—responsible for the recent murders the division had been tracking, including those at the church. He'd been killing and stealing their DNA to stay alive. 

The comm blackout, Captain Lee explained, had been a last-minute precaution against anyone trying to rescue or kill the shapeshifter before he could be taken into custody. "Since Jones tapped into our communications before, we didn't want to take the risk," he said, sounding entirely earnest.

Nick saw Olivia and Peter Bishop exchange satisfied glances over the table, while Colonel Broyles felt more like an unreadable stone than ever.

The blackout turned out to have been necessary. An assassin appeared at the scene—but he'd evidently been tipped off to the original extraction route, which changed after the comms shut down. Shots were exchanged, but thanks to the altered route the assassin's aim was off. Agent Dunham's wasn't.

"Another win for Deadshot Dunham," Agent Francis drawled, and the other Olivia grinned.

Captain Lee used his connections to pull in an NYPD SWAT team complete with helicopters to storm the warehouse location the shapeshifter gave up. "Getting him to talk was all Agent Lee's doing," Captain Lee noted.

The capture of Nina Sharp was the second-most important victory of the day. Her command center held tracking information on all the shapeshifters active in this universe...and extensive details on the ones who had been sent to the other side.

"And that means," Lincoln said, his voice filled with quiet elation, "we can take them all out at once and cripple Jones' network."

Colonel Broyles finally nodded. "Excellent work, everyone. Despite the violations of operational protocol, which we will address at later date." 

Nick felt as much as saw Captain Lee take the reprimand in stride. This was a huge victory for both sides and the members of the Fringe team over here were among the elite of their profession. A scolding over a break in procedure wasn't going to dampen their spirits, no matter what the penalty. And Lee didn't seem at all nervous or guarded when he spoke to Colonel Broyles, so Nick guessed Olivia and Peter hadn't told him the real reason for their caution.

That made sense to Nick. In either universe, he doubted Lincoln Lee could keep a secret that big.

The meeting ended and the teams started to say their farewells. Olivia hadn't been kidding about heading home, despite the late hour. Nick felt a momentary pang of disappointment—it would have been cool to see a little more of this other world, and he doubted he'd have the chance to come back again.

And part of him had been dazzled by the idea that over here, where no one knew them and no one would care, Olivia and Lincoln might have decided that what happened in another universe stayed in another universe. Pure wish-fulfillment dreaming, yeah, but Nick was sorry to let the fantasy go so quickly.

Just as well. He wouldn't have wanted the hypothetical liaison to be a one-time thing anyway.

Captain Lee volunteered to shepherd Nick, Olivia, and Lincoln back to the Bridge under Liberty Island. Nick waited while Olivia and Lincoln signed in with the guards from both sides and started going through the world-crossing protocol.

"I think I'm jealous," Captain Lee told him.

Nick blinked at him. "Of me?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah. Of what you've got with those two."

A misconception, but Nick was happy to play along, pretending just for the moment that Lee's assumption was true. "I love them both," he said quietly.

The other Lincoln looked at him for what seemed to be a long time. "Yeah, I can see that. I never went for it with my Olivia. Didn't want to lose her as a friend or a partner. Maybe I should reconsider." He grinned suddenly. "On the other hand, our new arrival is pretty cute, too."

Nick smiled back, thinking of the fondness he'd felt from his own Lincoln toward Peter Bishop. They'd never really had a moment, given Peter's precarious position in the world and Lincoln's feelings about Olivia, but Lincoln had told Nick about the gift of the glasses and his efforts to make Peter feel at least a little bit welcome in the world. Maybe this Lincoln could do the same. "Just a feeling, but he might think the same about you."

"A feeling, or a _feeling_?" Captain Lee asked eagerly, but Olivia had finished her discussion with the guard and waved Nick over. 

"Ready to go home?"

"You know, I really am," Nick told her, and together he and Olivia and Lincoln stepped back over the threshold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now rewritten "Everything in Its Right Place" three times. ("Life in One Day," "While You're in the World" [QE], and here. Four times with "Every Wish Would Be Heard.") Saving Captain Lee is _exhausting._ Someone else take up the cause, please?
> 
> Nick's meds are a specialized mood stabilizer and anti-anxiety formation of something similar to [ Escitalopram](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Escitalopram).


	9. Say the Words That I Can't Say

Lincoln's introduction to Fringe Division had been heralded by the loss of his partner Robert Danzig. In the wake of Robert's death, Lincoln swore to find those responsible for his loss and bring them to justice.

Taking the shapeshifters into custody marked a significant milestone in his pursuit of that goal. Jones was still out there, true, and the nature of his ultimate plan was still a mystery. But they'd taken out Jones' operatives and along the way, Lincoln had discovered a world—worlds—far stranger than he ever could have imagined. He'd also come to understand that there really were no answers to life, the universe, and everything...just like Olivia had warned him during their first case together. There would only ever be more questions.

Lincoln made peace with that because he had to, both for the sake of his sanity and because he'd also found so much more than he'd ever expected in the course of the search. Olivia....

There were still times when Lincoln woke up next to her and honestly could not fathom how his life had brought him here. It had nothing to do with "deserving" her, as if she was a prize to be won, or false humility on his part. But he could be profoundly thankful for the circumstances, even given the cost. He thought Robert would have been delighted by the ways in which he'd changed for the better, and that went a long way too.

It would've been disingenuous to downplay Nick's influence on Lincoln's happiness, too. He'd never had a friend so in sync with his own likes and dislikes. But what he felt for Nick went far beyond "friendship" and by this time, Lincoln knew better than to dismiss his feelings as high school relics. And the bond between Olivia and Nick had become a silent but ever-present factor in the relationship between the three of them, linking them together irrespective of time or distance.

Nick had become adept at controlling his ability, but there were still moments when Lincoln thought he felt—

No question about it. When the three of them were together, Lincoln could feel a subtle undercurrent of... _longing,_ there was no other word for it. Nick had flat-out said that he loved them both, that first day when Lincoln and Olivia found him again. He'd also made it clear that he wasn't going to push the issue, perhaps still afraid that his ability would unduly influence them.

It would have been easy to maintain the status quo. In his old life, Lincoln never would have given a thought to disrupting the balance he'd found with Olivia by broaching the issue. But ignoring the tension between the three of them wasn't sustainable; it'd been out in the open from the moment Lincoln thought about giving Nick a tangible symbol of his—of his _love_ , and Olivia agreed and suggested they give him Robert's pendant together. Nick was a part of their relationship, and pretending otherwise wouldn't make it any less true.

With all that in mind Lincoln chose a quiet evening, took a gulp of wine or three to fortify himself, and made his move.

"We need to talk about Nick."

Olivia turned from where she'd been folding laundry, her eyebrow arching. "That sounds serious."

"It is, but in a good way." Lincoln handed over a glass of wine and patted the couch next to him for Olivia to sit.

"I might not be an empath, but I know you have feelings for him." Lincoln watched Olivia's face, half expecting an automatic denial, and half relieved when she didn't offer one; at least she wasn't going to disavow her own emotions. "That's okay, Olivia. You knew him— well, a long time before you knew me."

She smiled, the expression at least partly self-mockery. "It's a little strange, isn't it? I was seven years old the last time I saw him. And he wasn't exactly the boy next door, like in some ridiculous romance novel. I always hated those," she added. "The whole 'destined to be together' thing." Olivia took a deep breath. "Yes, there's something between us. But I don't intend to do anything about that, Lincoln. I wouldn't."

"I know," he said softly, watching her face. "I could say the same."

She blinked at him, then laughed. "You know the funny thing about this conversation? Nick knows all this already."

Lincoln felt himself blush, cursing his fair skin. "I'd been trying not to think about that." As far back as that moment in the park, he belatedly realized. If Nick had sensed what he was feeling....

Olivia tilted her head at him. "So— I'm not sure what there is to talk about, then. As long as we can work together, it's not an issue."

"Unless we choose to make it an issue," Lincoln said, very carefully, watching Olivia's face for her reaction.

She stared at him for a long moment, long enough for him to start to wish he could take it back. "Lincoln, what— do you mean you—"

"I don't know." He shrugged helplessly to the skeptical look on her face. "I really don't. I just thought that maybe we should talk about it, at least."

"Talk about," Olivia said, very precisely, "you and Nick? Or me and Nick? Or the three of us together?"

He'd been fooling himself if he'd ever thought Olivia would be anything less than completely direct. But the flare of heat that curled up from his spine at even the _thought_ of the three of them meant the subject couldn't be dropped. "I don't want to lose you. To Nick, or— or anyone else."

Her answering smile was full of reassurance rinsed in an undertone of _how could you even think that._ Lincoln was becoming very adept at deciphering Olivia's brief smiles. "Not an option. But you've obviously been thinking about the possibilities."

"You haven't?" he asked, already knowing the answer, and was rewarded by Olivia's acquiescing shrug. "The bond you have with Nick is so strong, I can't help thinking you're meant to be with him."

"That's what we were meant to think," Olivia said, mercilessly. "I'm more than my programming, and so is he."

He'd learned to recognize her deflections, too. "We both know it's more than that. My— my feelings for him are more than just leftover high school memories. And the way he feels about us...."

"You've sensed it too," Olivia said softly, and Lincoln nodded.

"But acknowledging these feelings isn't the same as doing anything about them." Olivia took a drink, looking thoughtful, and then fixed him with one of her penetrating looks. "Lincoln, assuming neither of us is about to dump the other for Nick—"

"Let's assume that, please. Let's take it as fact, even," he said hastily.

Olivia smiled. "Right. Given that, we're back to the notion of...making it an issue." She stopped, looking puzzled. "I don't have the slightest idea of how that's supposed to work."

"Well, mechanically—" Lincoln started with a wry smile, and laughed as Olivia rolled her eyes at him. "I guess, uh. The physical part we could figure out. But relationship-wise..." he paused. "That's really what we're talking about here, isn't it."

"Not that empath-enhanced sex isn't enough of a temptation," Olivia said dryly. "But we both care about Nick too much to just...use him like that. That would destroy him, Lincoln, I know it. We can't give him anything less than all of ourselves."

Even as she said it, Lincoln knew it for truth. Not that he'd really been thinking otherwise, but maybe he hadn't completely processed all the ramifications.

Olivia's slight smile said she'd caught his thought, no empathy required. "Scary, isn't it. Second thoughts?"

"Yes," he said without any hesitation. "And third, and fourth. It has to be all in or nothing, a— a real commitment."

"And," she continued, still mirroring his thoughts, "that demands a deeper—no, I'm sorry. A more formal commitment for us, too."

Lincoln caught the slightly sardonic tilt of her smile and answered it in kind. "Hell of a way to go fishing for a ring, Ms. Dunham."

Olivia laughed, loud and clear, and Lincoln laughed with her. They weren't anywhere near that point, and they both knew it. And that just highlighted the fact that this entire conversation was premature.

"Aside from that," Lincoln said after a moment, "it'd be yet another secret to keep. Despite its strides toward inclusiveness, the FBI doesn't, ah, approve of polyandry as a lifestyle choice."

"There is that," Olivia agreed. "And maybe we're both full of ourselves and Nick wouldn't be interested anyway."

"But neither of us really believes that," Lincoln said quietly, and Olivia nodded her agreement. "So...table it for now? Until we've had the chance to think things through?"

"And see what develops naturally, if anything." Olivia got up, stretching, and held out her hand to him. "I've learned not to make too many plans. But Lincoln, if nothing else I've learned this too: We work at Fringe Division. Nothing is impossible."


	10. What We're Meant to Be

Some months later:

The world hadn't ended, despite Jones' and William Bell's best efforts. The Bridge had been closed to thwart their plans, but both sides hoped that was a temporary situation. Despite the rocky beginnings of the link between the parallel universes, everyone involved knew they still had too much to learn from each other to abandon the hope of reconnection.

Fringe events continued to manifest on a regular basis, keeping Olivia and Lincoln productively employed and continually astonished by the secret mysteries and terrors of their world. Nick reaffirmed his consultant's status whenever a case called for his talents, often providing the critical breakthrough to solve the crisis of the moment...or at least, to mitigate the most dangerous threats.

Nick also started coming around to the Harvard lab when there wasn't a case at hand, helping to pry Walter out of the lab and reacclimate to life outside. "He's suffered enough," Nick said simply. No one needed to comment on the reality that Nick's life would have gone very differently without Dr. Bishop, and he might never have met Olivia and Lincoln.

Outside of work Lincoln and Olivia and Nick were spending more and more time together as well. It never felt forced to include him when Lincoln and Olivia ordered in dinner, or went out to street fairs or the occasional movie. Nick never pushed, always seemed delighted to be invited, and generally made himself indispensable to them both without disturbing the comfortable equilibrium the three of them had found.

Lincoln didn't want to upset that balance either...but he also thought that eventually _someone_ would make the first move. He didn't necessarily intend that someone to be himself—there were days when Lincoln felt that he and Nick were electrons held in the aura of Olivia's fundamental nucleus, caught entirely in her glamour. Part of him, frankly, wanted simply to be the one to say "yes" when asked. But Nick never would and Olivia...to be fair, Olivia couldn't read his mind and she'd already made it clear that she thought her bond with Nick constituted an unfair burden on their relationship. He hadn't signed up to fall in love with a woman who was psychically linked to another man, and she was determined to keep those aspects of herself separate until Lincoln made it unmistakably clear that she didn't need to.

He couldn't quite bring himself to blurt out "hey, how about a threesome" either, so he finally resolved that as usual, Olivia had been correct: better to wait and see what developed naturally.

The three of them usually ended up back at Olivia's apartment after a case, taking time to decompress over take-out and old movies. This latest case had been more absurd than horrific and laughter kept bubbling between them, disrupting the movie no one was paying attention to anyway.

"The look on that guy's face when he turned purple," Nick giggled, and they were off again, Olivia and Nick exchanging glances laden with silent communication along their underlying psychic link, Lincoln doing his best to keep up. 

Nick finally sighed and put down his teacup. "You guys, you know, it's not fair." He waved his hand in their direction, encompassing them both in a gesture. "I can _feel_ you, even when I'm not trying. If it was all one sided, I could deal with that, but it's— it's not." He looked at Olivia, then at Lincoln, yearning written over his face. "I can feel that it's not just me."

"Nick," Olivia whispered, and Lincoln could hear the conflict in her voice. She'd continue to deny him for Lincoln's sake, and he couldn't allow that. But he couldn't let Olivia go either, and it had become increasingly obvious that he wasn't prepared to lose Nick.

There was a tangled Gordian knot of emotions between the three of them, and the only way through was to cut right to what mattered. He glanced at Olivia with a question in his eyes, and she nodded without hesitation.

"Here's the thing, Nick," Lincoln said, and his voice was dry but steady. "We're not in high school anymore."

Nick looked at him, startled. It was probably his imagination but Lincoln could almost feel Nick's power reaching toward him, trying to discern his intent. Whatever Nick found much have been convincing, because he let out a low moan and stumbled forward. Lincoln caught Nick's hand, smiling, and then Nick's mouth was on his.

The kiss started hard, almost bruising in its desperation. Making up, Lincoln thought a little dazedly, for all those lost years and missed opportunities. He gave back as good as he got, feeling Nick's feverish excitement leaking around the edges of his control.

" _qamuSHa'_ ," Lincoln said when they pulled apart, and he didn't have to strain for the right tone; his voice was already hoarse, his throat full of emotion.

"I said it first," Nick protested, looking like he was about to burst.

Lincoln smiled, mostly so he wouldn't start bawling. "Took me a while to translate."

"You're the one who's good at languages," Olivia said. Her voice was a little rueful as she added, "And emotions."

"Olive," Nick said, low, and Olivia smiled her secret smile and closed the distance between them.

At first their lips touched chastely, like children, the kiss they'd never shared in Jacksonville. And then Nick buried his hands in Olivia's hair and she was clutching at his back and the kiss turned dirty and hot, all tongues and porn moans. If Lincoln hadn't been turned on before he was incredibly hard now, watching them.

Proof, as far as he was concerned, that this was going to work. This part of it, anyway. The rest they'd work out in time.

Nick's expression when they broke apart was joyful and a little dazed. "Oh, I can feel you both. You want this, you want me, I never thought— this is real?"

Olivia lifted Nick's hand to nip at his fingers and he moaned. She smiled and Lincoln knew she was feeling Nick's arousal through their link. "Real enough?"

Lincoln cleared his throat, hating to bring up practicalities. But someone had to. "Before this goes any further we should find...somewhere secluded. Isolated. Just in case."

"In case...oh." Nick swallowed hard. "Right. Don't want half of Boston trying to get in on the action." He grinned, his expression caught between amused and hopeful. "We'll...have to practice. A lot. To make sure I'm not projecting anything when, uh—"

"When we," Olivia started in a throaty voice, and then she trailed off, her expression intent. Nick's eyes went wide.

"Okay, that is extremely not fair," Lincoln told them. "Do we need to set some ground rules about the non-psychic members of this party?"

"We'll show you," Olivia promised. 

"You'll feel everything," Nick said at the same time.

Olivia and Nick flashed identical smiles at him. Lincoln realized, a little too late, that between them he was in a great deal of trouble. And possibly physical danger.

There wasn't anywhere he'd rather be.


	11. Addendum: What Nobody Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started but not finished for Porn Battle 2014, which is just as well, since the conversation really was the point here.

The trick with Nick's empathy was that he could only project his own feelings, which meant he genuinely needed to be experiencing an emotion to pass it on to someone else.

It could be overwhelming. To _know_ you were wanted, with absolutely no reservations. And even more amazing to be the focus of that desire. 

After the fevered excitement of their first weeks together started to gently settle into a constant, stable delight in each others' company, Olivia insisted that Lincoln and Nick take some time for themselves. "Not that I know anything about threesomes in practice," she said wryly. "But it seems like a good idea for all of us to be comfortable with each other, in whatever combination. And since Lincoln and I have a head start, I think you two should have some...private time."

Lincoln quietly wondered just how private their time would actually be, considering Olivia and Nick's psychic link. But then again, the idea that she might "overhear" whatever he and Nick got up to was pretty exciting, too.

He agreed with the suggestion in principle, but got caught up in Fringe cases until Nick cornered him after work a few days later, waving a glossy pamphlet. "I found where we should go. This hotel looks amazing!"

The brochure displayed pictures of a huge round bed with satin sheets, a large Jacuzzi built into the floor, and a shower featuring multiple showerheads so no one would be left out of the waterfall-like spray. 

It was a room made for porn, Lincoln thought, but Nick seemed to like it.

Maybe that was why Nick liked it.

Lincoln was less impressed with the nightly rate. "I am a federal employee, you know."

Nick waved a dismissive hand. "I have money that I never spend. Let me do this?"

He was, Lincoln had quickly learned, unable to deny Nick anything. "I'd be happy to, as soon as we catch a break in cases."

"If I waited for that we'd never go. Olivia said I could kidnap you at will." Nick grinned, but then his face fell. "Unless you don't want—"

"Nick. Of course I do. And I'd be happy to be kidnapped by you." Lincoln paused. "That came out wrong."

Nick grinned, looking mischievous. "Oh, I don't know. Handcuffs and blindfolds, could be fun?"

Their mutual reaction to the imagery was so prolonged that Olivia peered around the doorframe to see what they were laughing about.

* * *

Nick had gone ahead to check out their room while Lincoln finished up on a call with Astrid, sharing a detail of their current case he'd forgotten to pass on before he left the lab. "You're on _vacation,_ Lincoln," she finally told him tartly over the line. "Olivia and I can hold down the fort."

Astrid had been gently amused and unwaveringly supportive when she'd learned about the relationship between the three of them...although she did say the disclosure hadn't been much of a surprise. Walter had just grunted "Yes, of course," elbows-deep in his latest experiment that Lincoln hadn't wanted to examine too closely. They'd agreed to keep Broyles out of the loop by omission, not wanting to put him in an uncomfortable position.

There was still the matter of informing the rest of the people in their lives, at least the ones who really needed to know. Nick didn't have anyone to tell; he'd lived a virtually isolated life, and he'd left his few acquaintances in New York behind without a look back. He'd started to develop relationships with a few of the other Cortexiphan subjects and had a number of online associates he considered casual friends, but he didn't feel the need to notify any of them.

Olivia had already talked with Nina Sharp, and the three of them were overdue for some kind of "meet the family" get-together with her. Nina apparently hadn't been particularly surprised either, and Olivia assured them that she'd been entirely encouraging. But Olivia was still hesitating over how to break the news to Rachel and her family.

It was probably more than a little revealing that Lincoln also didn't have anyone he particularly felt the need to tell. He might share the news with Julie Danzig at some point, although he really had no idea how she'd react. He hadn't made any effort to keep in contact with the other people he'd known in Hartford and they hadn't kept up with him.

Contemplating all that solitude would've depressed him if he hadn't been happier than he could ever remember being, his whole life. And one of the people responsible was probably getting impatient, waiting for him.

Nick was already naked when Lincoln opened the door, his clothing nowhere in sight. "I declare this Naked Vacation," Nick said, moving toward him with a grin. "No clothes allowed anytime."

Lincoln hastily shut the door before anyone in the hall caught an eyeful. "An extra bonus for room service?"

Nick considered. "I suppose a robe is okay, but just for deliveries. Though we might be too busy to eat. Food, anyway." He dropped to his knees, neatly ending the conversation. Lincoln gasped and fell back against the door, the projection of Nick's focused lust hitting him like a wave.

Nick got Lincoln's pants down in record time, mouthing at Lincoln's dick through his underwear. Lincoln had absolutely no desire to object...but he didn't like the faint frantic sense underlying Nick's projection.

Already regretting it, Lincoln reached down to grab Nick under the arm and haul him up. "We don't have to rush."

Undeterred, Nick leaned in, his lips at Lincoln's ear. "I want you to get hard for me."

"Not a problem," Lincoln said hoarsely. "But we don't have to be all high school about it."

Nick pulled back to stare at him. "But that's half the point of this. I want...I want to make up for everything we didn't do in high school. I want to give you everything you didn't have, when you were lonely."

"You already have," Lincoln said, and reached out to place his hand around the back of Nick's neck, drawing him close. "Nick, there's nothing to make up for. Neither of us were ready before. But I am sorry I couldn't be there for you." He gently stroked the scar on the side of Nick's face.

Nick caught his hand and held it against his cheek, breathing hard. "I was such a mess. I was still a mess when you found me again, even though I'd learned to hide it."

Clearly there were things to talk about, despite the room's blatant invitation. Lincoln nodded toward the Jacuzzi with his chin. "Relax with me? Might as well take advantage of this place."

"As long as you take advantage of me after," Nick said, turning to present Lincoln with a view of his ass as he sauntered over to the tub.

"That's a promise," Lincoln told Nick's rear, and finally took a longer look around the room.

It was more tasteful than he would have thought, all dark wood and gentle lighting. He briefly contemplated finding a closet to stash his clothes, but decided to commit whole-heartedly to the idea of a vacation and let them drop to the ground. He diverted long enough to grab a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge—probably obscenely overpriced, but Lincoln was determined not to sweat the small stuff on this trip—and slid into the already-bubbling Jacuzzi, leaving his glasses off to the side where they wouldn't get stepped on. There were conveniently placed ledges and jets in interesting places.

He grinned at Nick. "We have to bring Olivia here."

Nick giggled. "I was just thinking that. Our hands on her, moving her around and holding her legs open so the jets hit her just right."

They both took in a deep breath at the image. Nick leaned against him once Lincoln had found the right spot, settling in. For such a tall guy, Nick had an uncanny way of curling up like a cat, maneuvering until he'd found just the right position. Very early in their first weeks together Olivia and Lincoln had realized Nick was touch-starved, and they both tried to make up for the years of deficit by reaching out whenever he was near.

Lincoln stroked his hand over Nick's hair, thinking about how to frame his question, and then decided that straight through was the best way. "Would you mind not projecting while we're here?" Nick turned his head to look at him and Lincoln continued softly, "It's amazing when you do that, but I'd like to be...just two people on vacation. We can try to forget about Fringe cases and Cortexiphan powers."

"They're part of me," Nick said softly.

He could see Nick had misunderstood. So much for empathy meaning they'd never misinterpret each others' words. "I know. But this way we have to actually tell each other what we want."

Nick started to smile again. "Oh, dirty talk. So mundane."

"That's me," Lincoln said lightly.

"Please. Olivia says you adjusted to Fringe Division really fast." Nick smirked. "I'm totally taking credit for that because of all the sci-fi books we read."

Lincoln smiled and kissed Nick's temple. "Those absolutely helped."

Nick shifted a little to look Lincoln directly in the face. "About the projecting...I'll try. It's not easy with you. Olive helps me control my ability just by being there. I don't get involved with other people enough to project, usually. But you...." Nick looked at him like he was trying to fit a puzzle piece into place. "You always make me feel so much. I know you felt my emotions when we were kids, even if you didn't realize what it was. But you were never scared and that's why I loved you."

"And all this time I thought it was my Star Wars Legos," Lincoln said, but only to keep his own emotions in check. At least until they cleared the air. "Nick, I liked being with you then _because_ you made me feel so alive. It's always been easier to keep to myself, not get too involved. But then Olivia...." He smiled, and Nick was smiling too, because Olivia was an exception to so many things. "And then we found you again, and we both already had such strong feelings about you."

"Like it was fate?"

Lincoln ran his fingers over the tree tattoo on Nick's arm. "I don't know if I believe in fate. I just know I wouldn't change the three of us for anything."

Nick leaned into him again and sighed against his shoulder. "I know sometimes you feel left out, because of the bond I have with Olivia. I wish you were part of it."

"I don't," Lincoln told him, and was unduly pleased when Nick's head shot up with a look of astonishment. It was good to know he could still surprise a man who could sense emotions. "One of us needs to keep a clear head, right?"

"And you elected yourself?" Nick sounded amused. "Wonder what Olive would say about that. You and she...you're more alike than you think. You're both complicated to read, in the same ways. You both think too much."

"Probably," Lincoln agreed. "But I'm willing to work on that. Under the right circumstances." He got his feet under him and half-stood, turning to straddle Nick's lap, feeling ridiculous and fearless at the same time. "I don't need your ability to know that you love me. And I want you to know that I love you for who you are now."

Nick didn't answer in words, but he didn't have to. His body language said everything that needed saying.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art: Like We Were Yesterday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426687) by [Teaotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter)




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